A Perfectly Screwy Greenhouse

Magic spheres that will soon turn to stem and two tiny first leaves, are tucked into bed in a shack of a hot house.

I’m impatient with many things.  But when placing seeds in soil I get down right methodical.  Un-rushing, gingerly, I can happily place tiny seeds into furrows, trying to keep them from over lapping, fretting about the exact depth of cover, for hours.   It wouldn’t be an exaggeration for me to say that seeding and plant handling in general, are meditative processes for me.

That’s why my experience with my greenhouse and my experience with seeds are so different.

Buying seeds, I read the catalogues and research cultivars at places like PSU Ag extension and talk with friends.  But when I purchased the greenhouse, I was like, “ hummm, that looks good.” And pressed the “add to cart” button.

From the day it was delivered, my greenhouse experience was tense.  As I inventoried the part list, I found the company had sent me two of one part and missed another.  I had to contact their corporate office to get a replacement part.  Weeks later, the right part arrived in the wrong color.   I got out some green spray paint

I took my time assembling it. But it wasn’t patience that made me take my time, it was avoidance.  It arrived in September and I put the finishing touches on it in February.  Have to admit, putting the thing together wasn’t a walk in the park.

I’m pretty handy for a chick.  I build stuff.  Well, small things like counter tops and chicken coops.  But this gig, seemed to be designed to challenge an engineer with a masters.  Tinker toys on steroids with more than 400 screws.

I’d been calling my ‘greenhouse’ a zip lock bag with a few sticks for support.  But since it was in my possession,  I felt it was worth a stab at making it functional.  I decided some creative construction was in order.

I took it upon myself to make sure it would stand using the construction principles I learned from my father. Several rolls of clear duct tape, gorilla glue, chalk, and bubble wrap now support the thing.  I’m really looking forward to the decorative delight that the yellowing duct tape will add.

It’s got more than a few loose screws. It’s missing screws, in fact.  Nope, it’s not even level.  It leans a bit.  The thing is flimsy.  The plastic involved might be adequate insulation for a cold frame but not for something that would be heated.

Surprisingly, my greenhouse survived this crazy winter.  Over three feet of snow fell on it within a week and a half.  We’ve had 50 mile-an-hour winds that did not blow it away.  There is a small crack in one of the plastic panes.  Yep, more clear duct tape to the rescue.

Today, I slipped germination trays onto the shelves in my greenhouse.  I carried the trays carefully imagining how terrible I would feel if I dumped one of them.  I saw the sagging insulation.   Then I noticed the smell.    It smells like a greenhouse.  It is a greenhouse.   It’s not fancy, but it’s mine