Today we write about: the craft.
It's done, it's over, kaput, no more! For this year at least, the box program has come to a successful conclusion.
We'll still be offering a produce list people can order from for as long as we still have supplies remaining, but the majority of the work is in our rear-view now. Putting together seven boxes every week, while totally worthwhile and excellent business, has taken a lot out of me.
The knowledge that things are finally scaling down brings me great comfort.
He was a crafty little man, was this Victor from the Dark Woods. I never felt as though I could fully relax whenever he was nearby. It's not as though, I should make clear, I expected him to do me harm.
Not physical harm, at least.
Why his presence was permitted amongst us was never properly explained to me, but I had my suspicions. Victor, with his shifty eyes and black humour, was the sort of man one might expect to excel at the sinister arts of blackmail and bribery.
Well, I certainly expected him to. The others did as well, if I were to judge by the way they avoided being alone with him.
Perhaps I was unfair. Perhaps I should have given him more of a chance to disprove my misgivings. Perhaps he would have surprised us all.
But I, I am not the sort of man to take such chances. I did not reach this great grey age by embracing foolishness and opening wide my door to unnecessary risks.
And so, Victor from the Dark Woods had to die.