Tomato heaven
First night at Abe and Sarah’s Lancaster farm went well, except for the friendly rooster who stomps the ground just beneath the window of my room. Apparently concert time is 430 am. I felt compelled to compliment Sarah on her bird’s voice the next morning. That got a knowing chuckle.  Earplugs didn’t quite keep it out, but closed windows did the trick last night. Abe is a swell organic farmer, and…
