Nearing the End

Halloween.

End of October.

Today was end of official farmer's market season at Grandin Village and Ikenberry's Orchard. The season has been long and tiring. I haven't had a weekend off from baking since very early April. The last two weeks have felt a bit like torture. The grueling final 100 yards of the marathon, aching, sweating, pain coursing through the body.

Well, I have never actually run a marathon so I have no idea what one feels nearing the end. But in the case of market season, it has been painful. Too many hours on my feet. Too many hours awake in a row. But with an end in sight.

After a week off we will return to the site of the market and make bread drop offs. We will deliver bread to people who order ahead of time. I am absolutely humbled and astonished at the loyal support of our customers. Today I felt loved and appreciated by our customers. They love our breads and other farm goods and are grateful for my labor and efforts. They want to see our farm succeed. They are kind and make me feel loved.

Sometimes at the end of a 20 hour work day I wonder why I do this job. I feel a bit jealous of those other gals and guys who get to put on nice clothes, have adult conversations and do important work. Work in a clean office. Work that makes a salary and garnishes respect. I occasionally feel a bit envious of those folks watching TV, hanging out at the restaurants, or listening to the musicians. But if I wait long enough I remember the reason I chose this vocation.

Farming? Vocation?

I think so, at least for me.

One of the reasons we moved to the farm was to create the opportunity to raise health filled food for our kids. I wanted them to have the opportunity to eat nutrient-dense foods that would build healthy bodies. I also wanted them to appreciate the value of real food, to know the cost of real food, to know how it gets from dirt to table. All about food but somehow very spiritual for me. So many verses in the Bible speak of food, the land, agriculture. Taste and see that the Lord is good.

After over 4 years on the farm those Bible lessons have become amazingly pertinent to us.

Real food has also become very pertinent to us.

When we eat it is an exercise in gratitude. When we prepare foods for others it is an opportunity to transfer blessings to others. Every baking day we pray that the people who need our breads will find their way to market. That our breads and meats and milks and veggies would bring nourishment to the bones of those who partake.

Today we enjoyed steel gray clouds, fleeting sunshine, pumpkins, princesses, giant banana children, dogs on leashes who love our cornbread, hugs, chats, plans and farewell until the next growing season. We shared abundance, enjoyed others' abundance, we reveled in community.

Customer seems like an inadequate description when I think about the relationship we have with our grain, the mill, the milk and honey, the steam, the oven, the smell of yeasty goodness, sweat, tears, vitamins, sunshine, butcher paper, and families sharing grilled cheese and peanut butter and family pizza night. Guess I feel silly trying to describe the emotions. I guess if I were to distill it, it gives me joy to work hard and produce something that nourishes another person's body and spirit. I am probably going to feel pretty silly when I reread these lines later on. But I want to remember that even though at times I get tired and want to quit and run away to a town job and paint my fingernails I don't really. It is a satisfying thing to have a job with a purpose. Eating food that comes from a real person instead of a factory is a good thing. On many levels.

So the marathon is important. The aches, the outpouring of energy and sweat. All help us to remember that there is a cost to making really good foods. If it were that easy, everyone would do it. I was designed to work hard. Trained well by my parents!

But, oh joy! Am I ever going to enjoy sleeping in next Friday morning!!!

BTW, Philip is being the wonder Dad, taking the kids to trick-or-treat with friends in town. Thomas is dressed up in his grandfather's suit and hat. What a handsome guy! Patrick is an army man, of course. Maggie is a Greek princess. She looks stunning. Rose is Laura Ingalls, Her braids and bonnet, her freckled nose and mischievous grin are perfect. Nora is an angel. Silvery white, wings, and very, very excited about all the candy which she assures me she will not eat in one sitting, but will enjoy one piece a day and make it last for a very long time. We shall see. And don't I wish you could see Philip! He made himself a body builder costume! He looks just like one of those cartoon body builder characters, barbells and everything! What a good sport!

I am going to watch a Spanish scary movie, El orfanato(The Orphanage), and go to sleep.

Guess I should mention that as we drove home from market today, I noticed that the fall colors are nearing their end. Maple trees have their feet planted in pools of molten gold. The ridge is dominated by tired grey tree trunks, getting a little rusty around the edges. The air today was warm. Sultry. Or sullen. Over 70 degrees in town and slightly weepy. Maybe it wants to burst into storm but is waiting for the children to get tucked inside to count the candy and divvy up. Kids are more than pleased that the forecasted rain has not made an appearance yet.

PS OK, I know this is getting long, but everyone is gone, the house is still and I am enjoying myself!

I wanted to note for the record that my children have been making fun of me behind my back. They told Philip they have been watching my dance moves with George, the Royal Palm turkey. George agressively approaches me, I back away, desperately looking for a stick to use in my defense. He gobbles. I threaten. I tell him I am going to eat him for Thanksgiving dinner and he puffs his feathers in a dare. I skirt around the yard, looking for a way to get to the house without being flogged. The children laugh at me from their safe position behind the windows in the breakfast room.

Thanks a lot.

I told them I wasn't afraid of George. I believed what I said until I noticed that even Nora commands more respect from George. She doesn't even carry a stick. Hmmmm. Whatever the case, he better watch out! Or I had better pick up some tips from Nora.

The Other White Meat

The boys and I drove back to Lewisburg, WV, to pick up our pork yesterday. The drive over the mountain was so beautiful. We had a great time talking about farm vision, winter plans, and learning how to drive.

We got home and were greeted by the scene of three little girls making pumpkin pie. Homemade whole wheat crust, pumpkin puree from the garden, eggs and cream.

I fried up pork chops for supper. Obvious choice! They were delicious. Baked potatoes on the side, milk and honey toast, goat's milk gravy over all of it. Pumpkin pie for dessert.

Maggie is ready to live on her own now, but I hope she stays here for a few more years. She can make omelets, cook veggies and meats, make amazing cookies and wonderful pie with homemade crusts. The first pumpkin pie of the season was consumed, I mean inhaled. So was most of the second one. We were quite satisfied with ourselves as I read the evening chapters of a biography we are studying for school.

This morning I cooked pork sausage for breakfast. We were so pleased to have that back on the menu. I am going to have to ration the sausage. We won't sell very much. It is moist, but not greasy. Well flavored but not overly salty. Let's hear it for pastured pork.

This afternoon I rendered the fat into lard. The ground up fat went into the kettle. I stirred and stirred as the fat melted and the little bits of cracklings popped. The lard was strained into clean mason jars and now sits to cool. I wish everyone had some snow white lard in their kitchen, ready for pies, stir-fries, fried eggs, whatever. Especially lard made from pastured pork. I read that lard from pork that ate lots of grass is a decent source of vitamin D. Hmmm. Isn't there a problem with people being deficient in vitamin D?

Anyway, that lard is white gold to me. Maybe Patrick will make some freshly milled spelt or whole wheat biscuits with that lard tomorrow to eat for breakfast.

Now, I better go check on the split pea soup that is cooking on the woodstove. The rain is chilly. Split pea soup and cornbread is on our menu for tonight. Cornbread with cracklins leftover from the lard. Come on over!

Cheese, Glorious Cheese

The other day Thomas ran up to the mailbox. He returned to the house bearing a big box.

What could that be?

I hadn't ordered anything. We looked and it was a package from my dear friend, Julie.

She mentioned there was a gift on the way and I had forgotten.

What in the world could that girl have sent?

We hurriedly tore open the tape and dug into the box. It was heavy, unwieldy.

I pulled it out of the box and my mouth opened wide. Julie's dad made me a beautiful cheese press. Perfect for making hard cheese. Some time ago I had mentioned how one of these days I hoped to get a cheese press for making hard cheese. She mentioned it to her dear old dad who is an accomplished wood worker. He looked up plans and made the most lovely of practical objects.

What an incredible gift. I have wished for a press for a couple of years. This press is not only lovely, but such a practical gift. And one that will last for years and years. And I know the hands that made it. Amazing.

Happy early birthday to me! What will the first cheese be? Romano? Cheddar? Can I please learn to make gruyere?

PLEEEEEEASE, Priscilla. Hurry up and have your baby. (I am wondering if she was not bred by the neighbor's bull and maybe she was bred by Duncan in March? Could that be true? Could it be possible she is only 7 or 8 months pregnant and we have to wait until December? Oh, well, if that is true, we better enjoy the break because when winter rolls around we could possibly be milking two cows,)

Dear friend, Julie, and Grandpa Ted, thank you so much for your kindness. Your gifts to me are so sweet. I will always treasure that cheese press. Functional Art. I can't wait until I can give you some cheese made from it!

Rachel Banks was Back!

Our dear friend Rachel came for a visit this afternoon.

If you have been a long-term blog follower or family friend, you might remember Rachel. She lived with us for a time last year and worked as an intern on the farm. I have never known a lot of 19 year olds who would volunteer to shovel manure, wash dishes, milk goats and other hard labor for any length of time. Rachel not only volunteered, but consistently went the extra mile as she served our family. Guess I have to say that that has also been the case of every other young person who has come to help work on this farm. She not only worked hard, every day, she also loved our children and blessed them richly. As a result, they loved her right back.

We still love her, even if it is from afar, as she is now going to college in another state.

When Nora heard the news that Rachel was coming for a quick Saturday afternoon visit her eyes opened wide with delight.

"Rachel Banks is coming?!"

The girls immediately went to work on birthday card projects, remembering their sweet friend.

Along with Rachel we enjoyed getting to meet her dad. We walked around the farm, showed them the new forts built by the kids over the summer, showed off the barn full of hay, introduced the new lambs and the four little pigs. Explained that if George the turkey tries to chase you, don't run, just get a stick!

When we left for the farmer's market this morning the dark clouds dumped rain. As soon as we got to town it seemed like a curtain was lifted and the blue skies and sun came out. Fall turned into Indian Summer. Sweat dripped. It was over 80 degrees! What a change after the 26 degrees the other day.

Perfect for a walk on the farm with our dear friend, Rachel Banks and her dad. Glorious fall is now more orange and brown than red and green. We are nearing the end of October. Halloween costumes are definitely the most urgent concern of all children 12 and younger.

After saying goodbye to our precious friend, we prepared to go to a hoedown at the home of some neighbor friends. The bonfire raged, the wind picked up, the kettle of hobo stew bubbled in the cauldron. Children played fun games, homemade doughnuts were consumed, new friends made.

Tired, we headed back home to quiet.

The moon is a crescent, tipping down. Growing. The wind is growing as well. I am growing sleepy and am so thankful to have a nice warm bed to fall into.

Most of all, with all the other fun people we were around today, I am especially thankful for the special bond we have with someone who slept in our house, ate our food, worked, played and prayed with us. What a dear friend is our Rachel Banks.

Pumpkin Soup

Today the children and I cleaned out the barn for school. We raked stalls, swept floors, general cleanup.

Manure is so daily.

We also moved the four little piggies out to their new home in the portable pen in the garden. That is, the royal we. Actually, Thomas and Patrick caught the little boogers, put then in a cage and carted them out. I love delegation! The four little pigs were absolutely delighted. They went right to work rooting up weeds, eating grass and frolicking with each other. Their little pink ears flopped in the breeze.

It was such a lovely day I let the turkeys out of their portable coop. They too were delighted. George, the royal palm big daddy turkey herded them around the farm, introducing them to the most tender grass spots and the best places to catch bugs. What a big world.

I met a gal at the Grandin Farmer's market this spring. She and her hubby work on a farm in Floyd. We grab quick hellos and hey, how's it goings while we busily tend to market business. Ever since May we have wished to grab some time to swap stories and dreams, but alas, the life of a farmer is pretty full. Hard for either to get off the premises.

Today they were able to take a day to hike up to McAfee's Knob. Afterward they meandered over here for lunch.

What fun to spend the day hanging out! We made curried pumpkin soup and homemade spelt naan. Naan is a fluffy Indian bread that we LOOOOVE. I love getting to hear dreams and share our journey and laugh. These folks are about to move to start up their own farm in another state. We won't be seeing them at market next year.

Too bad.

But thanks to their willingness to travel a fer piece, we got to make a sweet connection and internet is a handy way too keep in touch until their path flows this way again. I believe they have their own blog so it will be fun sharing farm journeys.

In case you have a pumpkin sitting around, I hope you will eventually roast it. Best thing to do is cut it in half, scrape out the seeds and goo, put cut side down on a cookie sheet and roast at 350 degrees til soft. Scoop out the flesh and run it through the blender. You now have pumpkin puree that is wayyy better than the canned stuff. Especially if you grew it yourself or bought it locally. Make your chicken broth and add lots of pumpkin. A generous serving of curry powder. Use a hand held blender if you have one to blend the soup into a silky concoction. I like to add heavy cream (WHEN we are milking the cow!). Taste then salt to your preference. A dollop of sour cream and a dash of tabasco are nice touches. With or without, it is a great soup for warming your belly.

Sometime I will have to give you my recipe for naan. Homemade whole wheat or spelt naan is so much better than storebought.

I hope everyone is enjoying this weather. Warm. Indian summer? Absolutely delicious. Just like pumpkin soup and friends!

First Hard Freeze

Monday morning the temperature was 26 degrees at around 7am.

Cold. I lost my gamble with the garden. I should have placed sheets and blankets over the tomatoes, the peppers and the okra. Was too tired.

This morning the temperature was 30 degrees. The squash plants are dead. The green beans are gone. The okra is over.

That is okay. I will miss all the fresh summer garden vegetables but I am a bit tired of gardening. We gathered in the pumpkins, the mountains of spaghetti squash and the remaining unscathed peppers. Hopefully the broccoli, brussels sprouts, cabbage and turnips will bear before long.

The day warmed up to the 60s. Our uninvited guests, the ladybugs, came back in full force. They stormed the house. They swarmed and dive-bombed. They snuck in through cracks and crevices.

Those little invaders look sweet and innocent. After a few years on the farm, however, we know better. See my ladybug post from last year for a very funny story by Ross. Whatever you do, please don't let any ladybugs crawl into your ear, your nose or any other orifice!

So, we are full of beans and cornbread. Philip and Patrick are chasing away coyotes. The rest of us are off to dreamland. Another day of adventure awaits.

Another Trip to West Virginia

Today we delivered the big pig to the butcher. Nora accompanied me. She is so excited to know that sausage is coming to our house very soon. Sausage and eggs are some of her favorite foods. Next to candy.

We drove the short/long way home down 311. Went through Paint Bank. It was a glorious fall day and Nora and I enjoyed each other's company as we wound our way home. My main mistake was not stopping at the Paint Bank General Store to buy Nora an icecream. Next time.

We ate a late dinner. Maybe some people wonder why I feel compelled to write about so many of our meals. Maybe they think I am bragging. I hope not. I guess I want to highlight the wonderful foods we are grateful to eat. I also hope that maybe some of our menus will give you readers the hope that you, too, can create amazing dinners out of local foods.

For example.

Tonight we had whole trout from Jimbo, I put chopped up ginger and garlic in the cavity of the fish, nothing else, and pan-fried it in a big skillet. We put some of Randy Deel's delicious sweet potatoes in the oven whole, nothing fancy. I had collard greens in the fridge courtesy of the Good Food, Good People friends from Floyd. What to do with collard greens? I have never in my life cooked collards. Have always seen them, semi-grey in a can. Well. We don't really like semi-grey things out of a can. SO, I rinsed them, cut them up, put some olive oil in the wok, sauteed our garden onions, some ginger and garlic. When the onions were soft, I put the collards in the wok. Added a couple of tablespoons of toasted sesame oil. A splash of soy sauce. A small handful of sesame seeds. A splash of water to help the collards cook down. While they simmered and the sweet potatoes baked, the trout fried. Crispy skin and tails. I had a jar of garlic chili sauce that had been languishing in the cabinet for nearly a year. Warmed it up for using as a sauce for the trout.

It wasn't that difficult. Every bit of it was local and seasonal. Took less than 20 minutes to cook (with the exception of the sweet potatoes.) Less time to cook than to order chinese, that is, if we lived in an area where we could order in chinese. All of it, with the exception of the seasoning, was bartered. If we had purchased the ingredients, they would have cost less than chinese takeout.

So, the method to my madness, or the compulsion to record delicious menus... I want everyone to know that they too can come up with tasty, unusual, creative ways to eat food grown by themselves or their neighbors. I want you to be brave and give it a shot. I believe that good food is an incredible way to know that there is a God who loves us and wants us to enjoy good things.

Coming up with menus is a lot of fun for me. I have a few friends who call on a regular basis around five o'clock and ask me to give them suggestions for their dinner menu. We discuss the ingredients they have on hand and come up with a doable plan.

Well, anyway, the trout was fantastic. The creamy flesh, the spicy ginger, garlic and chili sauce contrasted nicely with the collards. The collards definitely had more substance than, say, spinach, but were tender and the sesame seeds gave them a nice crunch. The orange sweet potato gave the plate color and the nutty sweet root, salted and peppered, not even buttered, offset the spicy chili sauce.

Tomorrow we will probably have beans and cornbread. Curried butternut squash soup another night. But this weekend, pork.

Pork.

Glorious pork. Sausage, pork chops, roast and bacon.

Nora, I foresee many breakfasts in our near future consisting of fried eggs and sausage. Yummm.

"Taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed is the man who trusts in him." Psalm 34

Another Day at the Market

Philip and Patrick are gone this weekend. Left yesterday at noon.

That left me baking and the rest of the family to tend chores and get ready to sell at market.

Believe me, I am thrilled that Philip and Patrick had the invitation to join friends to watch the Blue Angels perform. They work hard and it makes me happy to see them get a down day.

Even so, I was a bit concerned how the rest of us would handle a working weekend.

A cry for help went out to Rebecca, my dear friend.

She not only volunteered to help sell breads, etc, at the Grandin Farmer's Market, she even volunteered to show up at our house at 7am on a SATURDAY to load up and take the girls to show her the ropes. When she got here we had been up for hours, doing chores, baking, separating, picking garden and other farmer's market type of stuff. She just jumped in, helped write price lists by hand when the computer quit working, carried stuff out to her car and basically took off to market with virtually no instruction, just a blessing and a hug. I guess I had faith and total confidence in the ability of Maggie and Rose to show her the ropes.

I headed north to Daleville with Thomas and Nora to man the Ikenberry Farmer's Market. Patrick's territory. He has been the young man in charge all 2009 season.

It was such a pleasure to hug necks of other vendors and loyal customers. I loved seeing all our Botetourt friends. It was a real hug back to see that they missed me too and were happy to see me. It was also a real treat to hear so many people comment on Patrick and his wonderful salesmanship.

The downside was the blustery breezy brisk 41 degree temperatures that assaulted us. A wonder any customers came out at all. The hours ticked by, the bread, beef and other goodies slowly made their way off the table and into bags and we gratefully headed home to drop off our leftovers and run into Roanoke to pick up Maggie and Rose and our other farmer's market paraphenalia.

Tired. low blood sugar, we cruised into Grandin neighborhood, picked up gals, deposited moolah into the bank. We really needed a good weekend to cover several rather large financial needs this week. Considering the weather I figured we would come up short. What a sigh of relief when we added up the sums and found out we had made JUST enough. Not too much, not too little. Made me think of that wonderful verse in Proverbs 30:8-9

"Keep falsehood and lies far from me; give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, "Who is the LORD?" or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God."

Once again I was humbled by the generosity of the people who chose to buy from us instead of Wal Mart. I know Wal Mart is cheaper. I know times are tough and everyone is having to be more careful with their pennies. I was grateful.

Tired, but grateful.

Upon coming home, we unloaded, checked on Priscilla (still the same), the turkeys, the sheep, the garden. I opted out on covering up plants, hoping for a light frost, not a hard freeze. Wanted to go straight to bed but needed to eat.

We had some leftover steak uncooked from the other night. That seemed like not only the most logical, but the most sensible option.

With some money I had received from someone as a tip I bought some shiitake mushrooms from one of the other farmers at the market. I also got some more butternut squash and sweet potatoes. Didn't feel like a muti-course meal so I stashed the other veggies and sauteed some of the shiitakes in the very last of Coco's butter. Added a little garlic. Then carmelized one of our onions in that very same butter. Then threw on the ribeye, coated in cracked black pepper with garlic. Medium rare. Just barely. Generous with the sea salt. Opened the bottle of wine I bartered for some lamb chops. Took my feast into the living room, lit beeswax candles the girls made (because our light doesn't work in there and I didn't feel like fixing it.) Ate my carniverous feast whilst the girls ate their baked potatoes. Thomas joined our cozy retinue and we had the best time discussing holidays. First we covered halloween costumes as that is the pressing concern of all the 12 and under in our house. Then we talked about Thanksgiving and our hopes and expectations. We discussed our sadness that we might not be able to go to Texas again this year. We wondered if we needed to stay home because maybe there were some friends out there who might need to have a family with whom they need to share their holiday. We remembered our former Thanksgivings with friends and how fun it is to share tradition with friends.

Then we got on the topic of Christmas. We had so much fun, each one of us, sharing what we would get for each other if we had all the money in the world. Or if we only had a few dollars. I was amazed at how well the children knew each other and how appropriately they chose. They never even thought about themselves. We laughed about silly gifts people give that are never used and the ones we treasure forever. We wondered about how nice it is that some years we have more money to get fancy stuff and other years it is more simple but every year is terrific. The fire died down, the plates emptied, the candles flickered out. We yawned, hugged and headed each to our cozy beds.

I sit now and type for a couple of minutes, desperate with the need to capture, for at least a moment, the relief at not missing an opportunity. I thought I wanted to go isolate myself, leave the kids to themselves, read a book and go to sleep by 7:45. The kids would have been fine. They know how little sleep I get on the weekend. They love to read a good book themselves.

Thank goodness.

Tonight we had a fire in the woodstove, a feast, even if a simple one. After so many different wonderful faces at the market this morning, we needed a dark room and comfortable chatter and fantastical imaginings. Dreams and laughter and thoughts of castles being built in the hay field and crowns and fancy dresses and commercial kitchens and housekeepers, and lots and lots of books and billions of dollars of dark chocolate and rooms full of doll clothes and grand pianos and collections of knives and a lifetime supply of chewing gum and New York and lifetime tickets to Yankees baseball games. And oh, so much more.

I almost missed out.

But I didn't.

So glad.

Beef, It's What's for Dinner

We drove to Lewisburg, West Virginia today to Greenbrier Foods. They are the family owned business that processes our meats when we need USDA inspected processors. Greenbrier does a great job. We appreciate their hard work. I have helped butcher lots of animals and believe you me, it is a joy to pick up nicely packaged white papered portions of meat.

Today we picked up the beef. We ate up the last of our beef a month or two ago. Even though we have had lots of other types of meats, there is something about red meat that makes me feel quite satisfied.

We have a tradition around here. The day we bring home the beef we have steaks for supper. A way to celebrate the abundance.

It is a bit surprising how few steaks come with a whole beef. Steaks mean a celebration.

Tonight we celebrated red meat. And Moose. And Coco, the mother of Moose.

The last steer we had processed was in February. It was good meat, nice and lean. But this meat is a bit more tender, a bit more fat. We think it is due to all the milk he scammed off of Coco every chance he could. That steer never was completely weaned. Probably all the nice grass this summer had something to do with it too.

Anyway, we are thankful. Thankful to have a nice way to enjoy grass in its red form. Moose never ate more than a handful of grain. He was a happy steer, free to range over our farm.

What a beautiful thing to have so many different wonderful things to eat that come off this farm.

PS It has been wet and cold around the farm. Drizzly. The wood stove has been fired up. We have kept it going yesterday and today. What a great way to dry clothes when the clothesline is out of commission! We felt quite proud of ourselves using the woodstove to dry clothes, heat house and cook our supper yesterday (vegetarian black bean soup). Multi-tasking the old-fashioned way.

PPS I have been looking up recipes for turtle soup. Anyone want to hunt some turtles?

Patrick the Courageous

Yesterday we had our homeschool coop. At one point I went out onto the deck and looked at the pond. We noticed a group of wild ducks were visiting our Rouens. They swam around and chattered with each other. Maybe catching up on the news from up north.

All of a sudden one of the wild ducks began to struggle. It flapped its wings, trying in vain to take flight. The other ducks, wild and domesticated, swam to the side of the pond and looked on in terror.

"Patrick! Come quickly! Throw something! Get that snapping turtle to let go of that duck!"

Patrick ran out to the pond, barefoot, and grabbed a stick. He waded into the silty cold muck and was finally able to get the snapping turtle to release its death grip. The visiting duck sped across the pond to the rest of the gang and they all flew away.

They didn't come back for a visit.

Patrick was wet and cold.

We were proud of him. I felt so helpless looking on at that near brush with death. But I didn't rush out to stick my feet in the cold wet pond. Patrick did. Thank you Patrick for helping the little duck. The snapping turtle will have to find his supper some other time.

I think we have an out of balance ecosystem with a few too many turtles. What is the natural predator of the snapping turtle???