Everything we need has been provided for us in this new place, but we must do the work.
In this case, the work entailed: using the tractor to prepare a level foundation, laying a rodent and waterproof layer of rock and chicken wire, painstakingly cleaning years of dirt off each panel, and repairing and rebuilding broken frames, as well as the actual building (without any real plan or clear directions). The 15 hours of cleaning credit goes to me, everything else, Chris.
It was decomposing in a pile on the property for years and sat in pieces on a concrete slab in La Jolla prior to that. As I cleaned, I imagined the last time it was filled with little plants and someone thoughtfully, lovingly tending to them…ten years? Forty?
It’s not like the cheap, plastic, throwaway hoop houses so popular in farming today, although, we could surely put one of those to good use.
It’s real wood, real glass.
The greenhouse resonates with something that is awakening inside of me as we strive to do-it-ourselves, and grow-it-ourselves; a longing for “real.” I’m so sick of fake. Faux eggs pretending to be the equivalent to those laid from chickens with plenty of dirt for worm-hunting and dust bathing. Plastic pretending to be trees. Shrink wrapped, pre-sliced bread as a façade for the stuff you knead with your own hands and watch rise on the kitchen counter.
I want to live a meaningful and authentic life, not a poor substitute of the real thing. I think it’s this desire was one of the many reasons we felt so drawn to farming, to our new home, and as a result to this greenhouse.
We are experimenting with starting most vegetables (and flowers!) in the greenhouse this spring and throughout the summer as well (versus direct seeding). We have soil blocking materials ordered, a trip scheduled for a truckload of compost, and $500 worth of heirloom seeds on their way (we went a little gangbusters on the seed ordering). Planting dates are set (kinda). I’m so looking forward to spending quiet mornings here in the greenhouse, with coffee in one hand and a prayer on my lips, watching the miracle of life unfold.