If I were to live in a greenhouse, I would have fresh flowers in my home every day. Guests would enter through my weathered — but still entirely proper — yellow-painted front door, and be greeted by such an abundance of greenery that they would be happily taken aback. I would offer them honey-sweetened dandelion tea, and show off my still-developing coffee plant, explaining it would be at least five years before there were any beans of which to speak. We would agree that coffee is almost always preferable, but that the dandelion tea was still quite nice.