I’ve spent decades inheriting farms in desperate need of rehabilitation. On acres of forgotten land, I methodically till, plant, and harvest until I’ve grown popular with the locals. My reputation as an expert farmer earns me a modest living, and I’m often up plowing before sunrise, sometimes working until a neighbour finds me facedown in a pile of turnips. That’s all in, by the way. In reality, I can hardly keep a cactus
