I don’t like to think I’m greedy or anything. Honest. All I want is a new, reasonably-sized greenhouse to fill with carnivores, Wollemi pines, and ferns. The Czarina knows this, and she’s offered to help build a new one, with all of the features desperately needed for said new greenhouse. Underground parking, orbital disintegrator ray, emergency teleporters and sample decontamination chambers, and at least one good solid airlock. Nothing much, really. She’s used to seeing me viewing greenhouse catalogs and, in the immortal words of Sam Hurt, “have you ever seen a puppy dog being lowered very slowly into a vat of warm bacon fat?”
Oh, I had nothing on Pavlov’s dogs when we visited the Greenhouse on the Midway at the State Fair of Texas. I looked at her. She looked back at me. I smiled. She told me “NO. Not until we get a bigger house first.” Damn her for being practical: I just noted that we could build the house inside of the greenhouse and still have plenty of room.
I can see her point. We’re also going to need a bigger yard.