Oh yes,
I am a farmer.

Or alternatively:
'Visualize whirled peas'



Those who know me well, know that I did not inherit the green-thumb of my mother and grandmother (not sure how my sisters fare at gardening.) This is despite my long-time dream of owning a vineyard. You see, besides faring decently with potted culinary herbs, I have, literally, killed many-a-succulent. No one asks me to house-sit their plants more than once.

But here in PDX, it would seem that I have found my niche. A fresh start. Turned over a new leaf. (I pretty much despise punning so why did I have to go there?) Check out this vegetable garden, which Audrey and I planted from seeds just 2 short weeks ago:



People, this is real stuff growing. I think the stuff is summer squash and snow peas, mainly. (And don't you dare write comments about how squash and peas could grow well in the Sahara desert.)

If I were to divulge my newfound secrets to successful gardening it would be this:
#1: have very low expectations. I expected for nothing to ever come up and look how pleased I am. I will be even more pleased after we catch and kill the cat that we saw digging in my precious lettuce earlier today. Cats are from the devil. If you like them, we cannot be friends.

and #2: live a place where stuff grows.

These roses are also from 'our' garden. Hey, I cut them myself, ok?



For you doubters here are pictures of our actual milkman experience.

The delivery...



The eggs, cream and yogurt...



and finally...
The Milk.