South row of the orchard is seed

South row of the orchard is seed. Leave it. I am putting it in the paper as well as on the board, because the board is where arguments go to live and the paper is where someone reads before they walk over with a basket and a good intention.

The tall stakes on the east side are the trees we planted in March, the same week the hall opened. They are ugly in the way young trees are ugly, and they are fine. The short stakes, twelve of them, are this year's seed row. I counted them on Sunday evening. Almost nobody is here on Sunday, which is why Sunday is when I count. If one is gone I will know which night it left, because the other nights have names attached to them.

You may take beans. You may take a cabbage for a dinner, and you write it, the way Bas did, so the count is not a detective story. You may not take a short stake because it would look nice by your window. The wheelbarrow is not a cupboard and it is not a chair. Sander has apologised for Saturday. Pim has confirmed, unnecessarily, that it is a bad chair. It lives by the stakes.

Noah almost filled it with stone. He put it back empty. Stone lives under Tom's tarp by the path. If you are new, and Floor, this is you on Thursday: the orchard is not a stop on the way in from the bus. The way in is the grass path, then the door, then the long room. The row is east of that, and it is working.

People ask if we will replant if a stake fails. Yes. Quietly. Not by resetting the whole world, which is a different argument and Marek has already had it. A failed stake is a hole. A new map is a different hall. I am not planting this row twice in one year so that someone can have a clean screenshot of a bridge.

If you are in the orchard on a Wednesday I am usually there. Ask. If I am not, the stakes are still not a suggestion.