Dear Farm Journal,
I am back in greenhouse one again today. After much organizing and cleaning up one empty bed yesterday, I called it a day and wondered where it went. This morning, I take on the kale. I meticulously pull weeds, careful not to pull up the small kale plants. As I move down the row, I chop the tops down to an inch of stem life that stands at attention, ready to sprout new life when the warmth of the sun returns. I can see this bed has been terribly neglected and Rufus confirms that, in fact, today was the first time the kale (which was planted in the fall) has ever been weeded. Most people find weeding to be a drudging task, but I find hints of enjoyment as I pinch the plant life between my fingers and pull the roots from the soil. I feel like I am freeing the kale from an invasion of thieves that have come to steal their nutrients and choke them out. I relish zooming into the mini world where soil and plant life fuse while my mind wanders in wondering. When I finish, I cast a smiling glance on a perfectly tidy row that resembles bright green notebook lines. That is tangible satisfaction.