Adventures In Urban Farming

Right. So. You may remember that in March, Anton and I got wild hairs up our bums and decided we were going to make use of our long balcony with excellent afternoon sun exposure and grow vegetables, exercising our green thumbs and sparing our wallets the brutal pain of buying fresh vegetables at the grocery store for a few months.

You may also remember that I live in the Northeast which is always, always, always fucking cold. We didn't.

So, occasionally we have nice weeks and all the plants can stay outside. They love it, we love it, the cats love it. But, inevitably, we have to bring them all back inside and cat-proof them so they don't freeze to death or get blown to bits by the fucking gale force winds that seem to love this area.

It's all gotten to be a giant pain in the ass, and I've become more and more uncertain of any type of payout from this adventure. It's a lot of hassle to move 2 dozen planters in and out and in and out and to make sure that Boyd isn't going to crush them all while they're in the house. But today, while cleaning, Anton discovered this:

A mother-fucking actual vegetable.  It's teeny, yes, but it's the first actual proof that any of these plants are actually  vegetable plants and not some crazy green leafy weeds we just happen to be nurturing.