I have found myself deeply, ecstatically grateful for a cold week of rain. After the week I had last week, and the weekend full of waitress-hustle, it was positively delightful to spend yesterday evening sitting at the dining room table with hot chamomile tea, reading. Letting the muscles recover, letting the garden dirt work itself out from under my nails, and doing some thinking.
I'm been absolutely devouring two books right now. One is called Gaia's Garden, a guide to permaculture and creating an ecological garden. The other is called Four Season Harvest. It has a lot of ideas about row covers and high tunnels and cold frames and... greenhouses.
My graph paper pad and my freshly sharpened Dixon Ticonderoga pencil have been keeping me company at the dining room table lately, too.
Into the midst of this inspired graph paper groove: serendipity! My inlaws replaced all the windows in their house. Did I want some? Oh yes, boy howdy, did I want some. They loaded them into the truck for me and I drove all of them out here, to share with my neighbor who's also building a greenhouse. But I kept the best ones for me.
My inlaws' house is an Italianate brick semi-mansion with arched two-over-two windows. The greenhouse I intend to build with these lovelies is going to be class. It'll live on this corner of the garage (to the right), where it will get south-west exposure. It's going to be about 9 x 14 feet... larger than our bedroom... and visions of fresh March salads and seedling flats and overwintered pots of rosemary dance in my head.
I am no architect. There is going to be a lot of pacing, pencil-behind-the-ear, back and forth. Lots of struggling to visualize the whole process of construction, start-to-finish, like any three-dimensional project. Like sewing a flat-bottom bag.
(Incidentally, I really miss sewing. Someday I'll set down the shovel and pick up the rotary cutter...)