Today, with some assistance, we installed the plastic on our greenhouse.
As Susan drove away, she yelled, "It looks like a Conestoga wagon!"
I almost called this blog entry, "Greenhouse Construction Complete," but it's not. At the far end (West), I'm going to build a big compost box and fill it with kitchen scraps, fresh manure and other goodies. I'm hoping that will add heat in the winter and carbon dioxide for the plants. Around the bottom, on the outside, I plan to add planters -- to keep air from rushing under the greenhouse "crawl space."
"So when are you going to plant something?" asks Virginia.
When I look back thirty years
I wonder how I got here.
I did not expect my future,
I did not plan it.
I knew the dreams I had were fiction,
professional basketball player,
Supreme Court justice,
father of six or seven.
My short-term goals were something less,
chosen just before each gentle turn
I charged with focus down the line.
Then something happened,
I shifted right, then left, then right again,
and I landed exactly
where I wish I had dreamed
I would be today.