But it gave me an idea.
I've always hated strong storms since I was very young. I was lying wide awake in bed, quaking a little inside from the ferocity of the storm and wondering if the neighbor's gigantic elm tree would finally land on my roof once and for all. (It did not.) I worried for my newly planted fruit trees on my tiny farms. My so very tiny, minuscule farms. Very tiny, indeed. In fact, I don't think all of the plots put together would make up an entire city lot.
My wired-up brain started free associating a bit as it is wont to do when under stress. Small farm? No. Mini-farm? Nope. My places aren't big enough. Micro-farm? Doesn't feel right either. So I went further. Nano-farm! Naw...that sounds like a place on Ork or maybe someplace where tiny robots are made. Besides, that still seems a bit large for my really tiny Little Slice of Heaven.
|All due respect to Mr. Williams. Nope. This will never do.|
So what's smaller than a nano-something? A pico-something! I did some quick math and determined that we have less than a quarter of an acre actually in production. Yeah, I told you it's small. When the average privately owned farm is more like 1100 acres, my 0.19 acres seems to-tal-ly mini-scule. Or, maybe, pico-scule.
See what I did there?
Anyway, tl:dr, I decided during a raging thunderstorm to call my place Picofarms. Picofarms Produce. If you follow me on facebook, you might notice the change. In my heart, it will always be my tiny Little Slice of Heaven. But that's kinda long on a business card.
See you at the market.