In Which I am a Gardner

I have been a farmer as of late. My crop? Zinnias. I'm a bit obsessed with them, have a huge love of cut flowers and have begun searching the internet for obscure varieties. I'm fairly certain this is the white-trash version of orchid growing.

However, rain or shine, I've been tromping out to the back 40 (read: garden) to check on my tiny little seeds to see how they are doing. Yesterday, success! They have popped up and I am feeling quite proud.

Perhaps this is my biological clock ticking, but I have a sudden urge to nest and see thing grow. To whit, I've been planting like a dervish and redoing a series of dining room chairs found for $5 each during a recent trip to Purdue salvage.

I'm sure my grandmother would say the only thing I really need is a good man to cook for. What I really need, though, is a good man to cook for me and carry the mulch.