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The farmar's almanac that Rhona lived by nowadays had proclaimed this to be the day to begin seedlings. And with the advent of the new communal plots, Rhona was more excited than last year to begin her gardening. Now the only question was what she was going to plant. Twenty-five square feet was a lot of soil to work with, but she also had to think about what plants would compete for resources. Herbs for sure, basil and thyme and oregano. Maybe some dill and mint. Wait, no not mint. Mint was a weed and would take over the plot. She'd keep that on her window sill at home. She tossed seeds one after the other into her basket, humming to herself as she did so.

Tomatoes for crops, but what went well with tomatoes? Peppers and Cucumbers. She could line a whole side with pole beans too. Along those, she could plant carrots and eggplants. Strawberries along the other side with radishes and celery. Summer squash, peas, onions and garlic also made it into her cart, all strategically selected to grow in harmony as she mapped out her plot in her head. She would finish it all of with a rosemary bush at each corner, herbs growing intermitently with the produce, and pots of marigolds along the sides, all to deter pests without chemical.

To say that Rhona was excited would be an understatement as she toddled happily over the the soil for potting mix and terra cotta because it had the best drainage.

Rhona had been lost in whether or not she wanted a large bag of seeding soil so that she could over plant and give starters away or just stick to being a normal person when someone spoke to her. She turned wide green eyes on the stranger and then fixed him with an equally bright smile. She hadn't been expecting to be joined in her hunt, but she also wasn't against the idea. She blew an errant curl out of her face to make herself more presentable, and even though it flopped right back down where it had previously been, she turned towards the young man who had joined her, inviting him into her little world.

"Yeah," she admitted glancing down into her cart. "This is kind of my spring ritual. Usually it's just herbs but with the communal plots in the park, I can try my hand at some crops." She reached up to the top shelf as she spoke, stretching herself up onto her toes to haul down the exact pot that she wanted. It slipped down into her waiting arms, and she cradled it gently against her shoulder, over-sized as the pot was, and eased it down to rest on the soft rise of her hip to diffuse some of the weight to her leg.

"It's seedling season," she declared matter-of-factly, as though it were obvious, "and it's time for me to start mine." Another giant pot followed by several comparatively normal sized cousins made their way from the shelves to Rhonas hip and then into the cart as she spoke, voice straining with each stretch she had to make. It was times like these that Rhona was painfully aware that she was about a head smaller than the average person.

"You know," she said after she had gotten her last pot and began toeing off her flats "I would take you up on that offer. God knows I could use the help but... you look like you have your hands full too, honey." She judged the location of her next target, and tested the stability of the shelves themselves, and stepped up. "Besides, look at me," she turned from the shelf, one knee hoisted up and wedged between heavy bags of bedding soil for stability. "This isn't the first time I've had to cope with things bigger than me." Another devilish grin and Rhona planted her bare foot on the other side of her knee, standing on the shelf to better reach the bag of seedling mix that she wanted.

As though on cue, however, an apron-clad sales associate turned the corner and caught her in the middle of her ascent.

"H-hey," he stammered, wagging his finger at her. High school, Rhona guessed from his bravado. First job. Great. "Get down from there, you aren't supposed to be -- "

"Well, what's a small girl to do," Rhona pouted, still clinging to the shelves as she eased the bag onto her shoulder. "You have no ladders, no steps, no one to help poor me." With the bag now safely on her shoulder, Rhona let one foot dangle out into thin air, leaning back to drop one bag into the cart below her with a loud crash.

"Really I ought to sue you for ableism, nothing is accessible." Another bag dropped into her cart. "So now I have to put myself in danger." This time Rhona reached far to the side, straining herself as she reached for the potting soil, "just so I can get what I need." All the while the young associate gaped at her, trying to get a word in edgewise while she worked and clambered. He wasn't able to speak until Rhona hopped down again and wiped the soil form her hands on the fabric of her shorts.

"You- you still can't climb!"

"Climb? Who's climbing," Rhona asked sweetly, slipped back into her flats with a smile.

"You were!"

"I was?" Rhona looked back at her new companion with a look of shock. "But a lady would never."

"I saw you!"

"I'm just certain that I wasn't climbing, because you came just in time to grab me that pot," she pointed at a little orange pot just above shoulder level, "and I would be ever so grateful if you could help me, sir."

The young man started at Rhona's smiling face and was still for a long moment before he edged forward and snatched the pot off the shelf, eyes narrowed at Rhona as though she might attack him. She only smiled on and accepted the pot gently, cradling it close to her chest as the young man backed away.

"Thank you ever so much, young man. I'll make sure to tell your manager what an exemplary employee you are."

The young man nodded and skittered away. Rhona watched him, and once he was out of her line of sight, she put the little pot back.

"I'm Rhona, by the way... do you... do you have a bit of a problem at home?" She motioned to the handfulls of raid in his hands. "I feel like there are healthier ways to deal with it. Ways that don't... poison your air, sweetie."

His... aunt... right... He was lucky he was cute. It made up for being a terrible liar. But she smiled anyway and adjusted the collar of Clay's jacket, smoothing it down over his clavicle. Interesting fashion choices, to be sure, and Rhona like them. The floral and leather was all very... Tyler Durden. So then was he just an attractive figment of her imagination? His shoulder certainly felt solid under her hand...

"Well, then," she purred, choosing not to call him on his bluff, "you can tell your... Aunt? That if she wants them gone, she's going to want to invest in some... oh let's see here... mothballs rolled in mint oil usually works, but that's more of a preventative measure once the roaches are gone. Ammonia is a way to get rid of them for sure. They like to nest in pipes and drains. You'll have to double check me but I think it's a... ten... percent ammonia solution that she can flush down her drains. And it cleans them. Oh, but in the kitchen sink make sure to send a lemon through the processor to clear out the smell. I mean you can do that whenever, really. I send lemon slices down the food processor whenever I use it, just to keep it smelling nice."

What else was there? Rhona knew there were several. She would have to sift through preventative measures she knew -- she'd had her share of pest infestations this winter, the cold air driving nastiness into her apartment for warmth. Ants, spiders, beetles, but never roaches. Most pests were the same, however, and maybe some of the same things would work...

"For ants I line a mason jar with Vaseline, and put some sugar water in the bottom. The bugs are attracted to the sugar, but the Vaseline makes it so that they can't get back out. Oh, dawn dish soap eats at the exoskeleton of insects and spiders, so throw some of that and water in a spray bottle and spritz whenever you see one. Plus, you get that part of the apartment clean. Win win." She cringed within herself, realizing too late that she might accidentally imply that he didn't clean it usually. She winced a little, masking it with a laugh. Judging by the scent of soap that clung to him, cleanliness wasn't his issue. Someone else then? "There are a ton of preventative measures too, like using lemon juice in your cleaning and putting out cedar wood. There are plants that drive away roaches like bay and mint. But unless you want your apartment looking like mine -- that is to say a greenhouse -- then you might want to stray away from those.

"None of those work as quickly as raid but at least then you -- sorry your aunt doesn't have to vacate for the day." She glanced up over his shoulder and took the cans gently from his hands. "Would you reach me that fertilizer please?"

As Clay stooped to deliver the fertilizer that, admittedly, Rhona did not need, she followed his motions all the way down. Not bad. Not bad at all. And he had been strong -- that bag was not light. Rhona sort of wished that he hadn't been wearing the jacket. She might have been able to see his arms working around the weight. But she had to stop staring when he came back up, lest she give herself away. She may have already, actually. Rhona had proven herself more than capable of clambering around shelves and hoisting heavy bags and pots down from heights far above her head. Did Clay put two and two together? Did he notice that she had used the same ploy on him that she had used to calm the store clerk? Fetch me something, big strong man. Did she care if he did? To be perfectly honest, Clay calling her on her innocent manipulations might have been fun. Polite society dictated that you take whatever the fairer sex threw at you, no matter how trite and strange it may have been. Did Clay's unorthodox dress also hint at a similarly unorthodox pattern of behavior? And if he did call her on her bluff, what would she do? Rhona wasn't even sure...

This was taking too long, and Rhona had never been the patient type. Not even in her previous incarnation. Roaches her not, Rhona was able to recognize beauty when she saw it, and this young man had it in droves. Right down to his unique sense of style. Her life would not be boring with him in it, that would have been for sure. But if he was going to stammer and stare at her instead of taking action, then she would take it herself.

"I think I gave you too much information," she said with a playful smile. "Look, I have to go and get groceries anyway, so unless you're sold on the raid, how about you come with me and we can look at some options. Or else, if you are committed to the raid, I won't stop you, but maybe you can spare an hour for some lunch?" She smiled again, hand folded demurely in front of her.

Rhona let Clay take her cart, noting the chivalry in his action.

"I live alone, actually. I don't think I'd be a very good roommate, I tend to kind of... spread..." Rhona wondered what it might be like to keep all of her plants in once space. It wouldn't work. Rhona would have to limit her garden to what she could fit on her own window sill, which would be small plants and succulents... that would have been terrible, as someone who felt comfort in the company of things that grew. "No, it's just me that I'm feeding. But I have a plot at the communal gardens in the park. Instead of paying to rent the space, I'm donating some of the crops to the food pantry. But I'll still have a surplus..." Honestly, she hadn't thought what that until now. What was she going to do with all that food? Was she going to give it away? Sell it? Use it? The herbs she could hang and dry no problem but everything else? She might be able to stew the tomatoes, but she wasn't sure of her ability to can or jar anything. She was worried that the contents would mold despite her best efforts.

"Honestly, I'm not sure what I'm going to do with the extra food. I'm drying the herbs, but you just hang those up and let them do whatever. Everything else... I'm sure I can find some tutorials on jarring or something. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, I guess." She shrugged the issue off, donning her newly discovered tendency to let things happen as they would. It was freeing...

"Mostly I just like to grow things. Same reason I like baking and cooking and poetry. You take something from it's most basic components and make it into something else. You can see a project go from planning to fruition. Granted, growing plants takes longer than baking or cooking... certainly longer than poetry in some cases." Although Rhona had been struggling with a particular sonnet for quite some time and was just about ready to chuck it out the window. "But the concept is the same. And it's just so satisfying to know where your food is coming from." Chickens would be her next project, she decided. When she owned a home, she would also own chickens. And ******** it she'd buy a farm and never rely on anyone else for her food ever again.

"What about you? Do you live alone or with someone else?"

Rhona perked up at the mention of his ability to preserve foods. Well, that certainly was impressive. Rhona had a tendency to chalk the ability to do anything that she couldn't do up to witchcraft and the ability to make food last well past its prime fit snugly into that category. Hang on a second, you could can meat? Thinking about it, yeah it could totally be done. It was done all the time with that nasty canned tuna, chicken, and ham. The amount of sodium in that crap though... but if Clay canned it himself, then there probably wasn't as much nastiness in there. Maybe not any at all. At that point, it wouldn't be any different than frozen vegetables and fruits. Maybe she could charm him into teaching her. If she could preserve her own crops, then she would have no reason to buy anything in the winter...

And he raised his own stock. Be still my beating heart. Self-sufficiency certainly was a desirable trait for Rhona. If she asked outright would be coming off as trying too hard? She'd already asked him out, no big deal, but then imposing herself into another aspect of his life... that may have been too much
she would find a way to slip the request in some other time... or maybe wait for him to offer. She couldn't do all the work, after all. Clay had to come after her as much as she would come after him.

"Nope," Rhona grinned as she patted one of the bags of soil. "I just came here for planting stuff." She followed his gaze as he searched, waiting for him to make a choice. So far he seemed to be considering an attractive female, and while it didn't make Rhona jealous, per say, some of that left-over Micah-ness, as she had come to call it, whispered against her nerves. It was easy enough to ignore, however, and she continued their conversation without incident.

"You raise pigeons? Like for homing or for food?"

"I envy people that can slaughter their own stock," Rhona admitted as she packed whatever bags appeared into the cart again. "I'm too soft for it. I look into their eyes and... well I can't get over it." Maybe she wouldn't raise chickens then. The idea of killing them... hens maybe, that way she could keep them as pets and harvest their eggs. "I've heard that people react better to farmers that name their stock, though. I don't know if there's any credence to that. There is a cattle farm outside of the city that sells whole and half cows. They butch it themselves, but they put the name of the cow on the box... that's a little too far for me. I don't want to know that I'm munching on a Delilah-burger."

Food actually sounded really good. Even when she suggested lunch, Rhona hadn't been super hungry, but now that they had been on the topic for some time, she could feel a hunger pang beginning to develope. And the shakes didn't sound too bad either. Between her double life and the fact that she had no car and so had to walk literally everywhere, she wasn't worried about shakes going anywhere but where it needed to be. Plus sandwiches were easy to eat and not likely to cause any embarrassing spills. Nice and casual. Rhona was into that.

So to recap, this was an attractive young man who was self-sufficient to an impressive extent and was low maintenance. Rhona didn't have a checklist, but that was stacking up to be a fairly nice one.