It’s strawberry season, and CSA members know it. They zip into the Tin House, grab their quart containers, and head to the fields with purpose. “The Hustle” plays in my head as I watch them go. These members know the brevity of the season—that strawberries wait for no one. Layabouts will be disappointed, but hustlers will be rewarded. This year the strawberries are in Chapel Field, the far-flung field with a beautiful view of the Manetto Hill Church. Dan and I had misgivings