Go to bed early to wake up refreshed!

Izzy looked down at her hands. The kitten was batting playfully at her thumb and purring loud enough to put a jackhammer to shame. "I see what you're doing," she told it as she walked to the door. "It won't work- I already told you I'm allergic. You can stay the night and then you'll have to go back to the mayor."

"Mrew."

"No backtalk now." She booped the kitten on the nose before turning her attention to the inside of the cottage. She immediately regretted that choice.

The interior was furnished. Technically. Nearest the door, a small bed, complete with a straw mattress sat. The small, beat up chest at the foot of the bed looked no better than the rug so worn it was practically translucent. A rough, wooden table dominated the middle of the small room, accompanied by a chair with a broken leg. Along the far wall, a bookshelf stretched to the ceiling next to an ancient TV, complete with rabbit ears.

Izzy took in the room in silence. The straw mattress was new to her, but otherwise she was forced to admit she'd had worse apartments. At least this one was free.

The kitten squiggled in her arms, and she released it to explore the floor. Her nose had began to itch as soon as she have closed the door behind them. She sensed it would be a long night before she could offload the critter in the morning.

The cat was either unaware or disinterested in her discomfort. Izzy suspected the latter, though the kitten would not confirm. As Izzy unpacked her meager belongings into the chest, the kitten set off on an inspection of his new realm. He wobbled his tiny self from one piece of furniture, inspecting it and giving an experimental tap before moving on to the next.

Izzy couldn't help but smile watching him. A name wafted into her head and she knew she was doomed. For the sake of her sinuses, she tried one last time, "Lord Snufflebottom, while I do appreciate your dedication to your duties, please remember you shan't be here long."

Snuffles did not deign to respond. He knew he had won.

With a sigh, Izzy laid down on the mattress and took stock. Not what she'd hoped, for sure, but a roof, mostly, over her head and soon, her own food. From what she'd seen of the locals they were admittedly strange and presumptuous but extraordinarily welcoming. That wasn't nothing.

And, as she gazed out at the stars through the hole in the roof, she did have to admit that she had a nice view from her bedroom.

She woke to the sun assaulting her eyes. Izzy hadn't noticed the previous night that the windows had no curtains. In the wee hours of the morning this seemed like a major oversight indeed.

With a groan she removed Snuffles from where he had curled up on her chest. As much as she was ethically and morally opposed to being awake this early, starting her day outside and out of the cat dander sounded pretty decent.

As she stood on the deck looking over her new land, Izzy was struck again by how little she knew and how much was very obviously between her and a working farm. The farm contained a large amount of property, but she wouldn't call it fields any more.

In the vast sea of weeds and rocks, a single small patch of plowed ground stood alone. In it, a half dozen small plants with white flowers poked out of the soil at even intervals. She'd say she had no idea what it was, but the small sign with a picture of a potato gave her a pretty solid guess. At least she'd have something to eat while she worked on reclaiming the rest of the farm.

The mailbox at the base of the stairs drew her attention away from the work ahead. The flag was up, though she was fairly sure it hadn't been last night.

Could it be some sort of outgoing mail from grandpa? Letter or bill, it didn't really matter, she supposed. If it was still here after all this time, she should deliver it to a post office herself so it could continue on its way.

She pulled the small envelope out and examined it. Clearly it hadn't been sitting in the mailbox through too many long, hot days. Tidy handwriting scrawled across the front. It took a second for her to realize what was wrong- it was addressed to herself. From the mayor.

She narrowed her eyes and glared at the letter. It was strange enough the man had been waiting outside for her the previous night- she hadn't told anyone she was coming, after all- but this was one firm step further.

There was no way the mail had been both picked up and delivered between their conversation and now. And why was the flag up? Was the mailman supposed to take it from her box and then pop it right back in? What was the point?

She opened the letter and pulled it out slowly. Not that she was sure what she was worried about, but it just seemed like good sense.

Isabel,

It occurs to me that I did not ensure you know how to begin your new career as a farmer!

It is very simple and I'm sure you'll be a pro in no time. You simply need to plow fields free of debris and plant some seeds. Keep them watered and soon enough, you'll be rolling in fruit! Or vegetables, depending. Your grandfather's tools should be in a chest by the mailbox, and here's a few seeds to get you going.

Best of luck,

Mayor Ribbenof

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At the bottom of the letter, three seeds were taped to the paper. Three whole seeds. However, given Izzy had none at all before, she carefully removed them and placed them in her back pocket. Besides, it wasn't like she had a whole lot of room to plant them anyway.

At the base of the mailbox sat the chest mentioned in the letter. Inside was a full compleiment of farming hand tools- a shovel, hoe, scythe, watering can. There was even an axe and a pick.

They had all seen better days and were just about rusted through. Even still, it was better than nothing. It seemed that was to be her motto here.

Maybe once she got herself situated, someone in town would be able to help her repair the tools. Once she got situated and acquired herself some cash to pay for it, she amended. In hindsight, she wasn't sure why she thought farm work would involve less debt than her city life.

Okay, first step, clear the weeds. No, first step water the potato patch, second step clear the weeds. Despite herself, Izzy did feel better with clear, actionable things dto do in front of her. She grabbed out the watering can and the scythe and turned to the overgrown fields. Time to reclaim Overcast Meadows and make it her own.

Several hours later, sweat freely ran rivers down her body. Her clothes stuck to her body. Snuffles lay curled up in a ball on the deck, napping. He'd had a hard day of rampaging through the weeds and generally making a nuisance of himself.

The potatoes were watered, though it did take a while to find the lake through the foliage. It was the second part of the plan that was troublesome. The weeds though. The weeds.

Izzy was swiftly coming to the conclusion that this was a lot more than a single morning's work and called a truce. All she'd progress she'd managed to make was a stack of weeds yanked from around the rocks and stumps that littered the field.

She sat on one of those same stumps and mopped at her brow. That was a problem for another day, she decided. She would try her hand at plowing the ground and planting her three seeds and call it a day.

She weighed her exhaustion against how much more she had left to do. It'd be a tight race. Above, the sun hadn't even reached its peak yet. Clearly, it was stalling to mock her further.

She traded out her tools and then eyed the ground. She just needed to dig a few lines in the ground, yeah? That didn't sound right, or at least not fully correct, but she didn't know what was missing. She shrugged. Her patience had long since dried up, and she wasn't going to waste more time waffling. She swung.

It hit the ground with a nice, satisfying chink. A small clump of dirt flew up. Another swing, another chink, some more dirt. A third swing, and suddenly a small two by two patch of ground was neatly plowed, perfectly aligned with the existing potato patch.

Izzy staggered back and fell with a yelp. She was no expert farmer by any means, but she was downright positive that wasn't normal. Extraordinarily convenient, but not normal.

She clambered to her feet and squatted next to the newly re-arranged turf. Cautiously, she prodded the dirt. Shockingly enough, it didn't bite her, or move at all. She was not an expert farmer, true, but her mom sure raised her better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Before the dirt could change its mind, she poked a hole in one of the furrows, dropped one of her seeds in and buried it.

It was difficult to make the first swing on the next patch of dirt. Things were strange here, in a way she had never noticed in her youth. Was that new? Or had she simply looked beyond the weird before? Had her grandfather known about all this?

At the end of the day, there was just no option. She had no means to leave, so it was farm or starve. In no time at all, she had two more freshly tilled patches with a seed planted in each. She watered each of them before turning the rest of the watering can up over her head.

Cool, refreshing water poured down. She could feel the sun wicking it away as quick as she poured it, but at least now she could pretend the wet patches were water instead of sweat.

Behind her, a throat cleared. "Well, I see you're settling in right quick."

Izzy spun around. A woman stood under the dilapidated Overcast Meadows sign and waved. The workman's apron she wore caught Izzy's eye.

"Hey there," Izzy said. "Lost? You don't look much like a farmer." Not that she herself did, but that hardly needed to be said.

The woman laughed and walked towards Izzy. "Not at all, Isabel! The mayor sent me- asked me to introduce myself and make sure you knew who to talk to when you're ready to patch up that old thing." She gestured at the cottage absently. "I was telling your grandpap before he passed, rest his soul, that he needed to fix the thing up. Never got around to it, clearly."

"Just call me Izzy, please. And I'm all ears; while the sky at night is beautiful, I don't think I need to be watching it through the hole in my ceiling."

The woman grinned and stuck out her hand. "Ain't you a hoot? Oh, where are my manners! Name's Caroline, owner and operator of a renovation and handicraft shop in town here. Pleased to meet you, Isabel"

"Izzy is fine."

"Right, right. So anyhow, everything is simple enough really for a renovation project like this. Tell me what you want, hand over some cash and the materials and I'll have it done for you in a day, two tops."

Izzy's eyebrows shot up at that. "Renovate the whole house in two days?"

Caroline rocked back on her heels. "Well, calm yourself. I said a day or two; adding in fudge time is just responsible project management."

"So you expect to repair all of that," Izzy said as she gestured at the house, "In a single day?"

"Barring any unforeseen issues," Caroline quickly added. "It could be two."

"Of course. But typically a single day?"

The smile returned to Caroline's face. "That's about the size of it- I take pride in my work."

A thought struck Izzy. "Hold up a minute, you said this costs money and materials?"

Caroline laughed. "Of course. I ain't running no charity. I've got a business to run."

Izzy shook her head. "Sorry, that wasn't what I was questioning. You need me to supply the materials?"

"Can't hardly build without something to build with." Caroline was looking at her, brows knitted together in concern.

"Right, but, couldn't I just," Izzy trailed off. Caroline's confidence was sowing doubt. "Couldn't I just, you know, pay you for the materials? Like include it in the cost?"

Shock crossed Caroline's face and faded just as soon as it had arrived. She doubled over in laughter. "Whoo, you are a real jokester Miss Isabel. You almost got me there. Best thing I've heard all day. Anywho, sounds like you've got a handle on it. Stop by my shop in town when you are ready to talk specifics."

With a wave, Caroline turned and walked away as abruptly as she had arrived. Izzy could just make our her saying, "Pay for the materials," and laughing again on the way out.