"If you think it would work, I'd be more than happy to give it a try," she said. She'd always admired farmers. Truly. And a part of her thought it would be a wonderful life to make. But the thing about farming was that it was a job that was somewhat repetitive in nature. Tasks followed the seasons. And the seasons cycled over and over again.

That wasn't Ariadne. Ultimately, she was too energetic. Spontaneous. Creative, perhaps. Being stuck in a routine would be confining, eventually.

Or possibly make her think a little too much of the life her parents had carved out for her.

And anyway, with so many plants, it would be hard to name and befriend all of them. Season after season.

"Is that what you did back home?" she asked. "Farming?"