The Greenhouse

I spend so much money every year at my local greenhouse buying plants, that I decided it would be cheaper to build my own. The kid's Poppy  found a frame that a school was wanting moved, so he moved it to the "80 acre homestead" and then put it back up. So I once again moved flowers from one location to another--which I do every year--because I change my mind about where they will look best. My daughter has memories of moving a very heavy concrete fountain over and over and over until I found just the right spot for it. Which by the way, Poppy  moved one time and dropped (accidentally). And that ended the lifespan of the nomadic fountain. Back to the greenhouse story, it reminded me of a covered wagon or a prairie schooner because depending on how the wind was that day--sometimes the plastic would be billowing and sometimes it would "suck inwards". It worked great the first year or so but eventually a small rip appeared and just kept getting worse and worse, until the plastic was pretty well shredded. And how could I ever forget spending my first evening locked in the greenhouse (see my blog titled "locked in" ). So the kid's Poppy  strapped on his tool belt and built a new greenhouse using handmade pegs instead of nails and solid, clear panels instead of plastic sheeting. And now because of rising food costs , I have decided to can all my homegrown vegetables as well as meat. So I needed more space, which meant I needed to enlarge the garden area , which meant I needed to move the fence which had my clematis growing up it, which meant I had to move flowers again. Which I did, while my daughter stood back and watched with this "Oh my God here we go again" look. And so the evening and the morning were the first day, as the Bible says.