A Greenhouse to Withstand the Winds

Creating a small-scale farm in the Pacific Northwest requires creating a greenhouse. The cold of winter lingers. The chill of spring lingers. Then the warmth of summer hits full force, with long days and temperate nights, and then all too soon, the cool of fall descends, and another farming season coasts to an end.

A greenhouse lets us start seeds early, early, early. We can get seedlings going and keep them happy in the daytime warmth of a greenhouse for several weeks. Once we pass our last-frost date, these happy seedlings can go into the ground and turn their faces to the warming sun and burst into serious chlorophyll production.

Original greenhouse site, by the blue tarp.

We had originally planned to build our greenhouse down by the veggie beds. We wanted it to be a pretty greenhouse, so nestled amongst the veggie beds, we would see it whenever we glanced out our windows. And it would be right there! Short trip from greenhouse to planting beds. Made so much sense.

But our planting beds are bordered by mature trees. We realized that the greenhouse would be in the shade by 2:00 in the afternoon during the spring months, those all-important months when the fragile seedlings would need all the light and warmth the greenhouse could muster.

Improved greenhouse site; flat and sunny.

So we changed plans midstream. We relocated the greenhouse site up near our shop, where the ground was super level, and the trees were a considerable distance to the east and west. Our pretty greenhouse would greet friends and neighbors when they came to visit. We could still see it from our windows; we just had to peer a bit.

We have considerable winds on our island. Two or three times a year, storms can bring winds that howl across our property at 50-60 mph. We also get a little snow, so snow load could be a factor. We chose a model that was sturdy enough to withstand our winds and shaped to slough snow.

It was expensive, about $5,000. But I just happened to land an editing gig that would cover the cost. We took the plunge. We had to have a greenhouse if we wanted successful planting beds, and the universe gave us the means to procure the perfect one. We clapped our hands with glee.

We drove two hours to pick up our new greenhouse and they piled and stacked and wedged it into our 20-foot RV. It came in flat packages. It barely fit inside our RV. It had thousands of screws and hundreds of pieces, and they all had to go together just so.

The instruction booklet was sparse and vague. The instructional videos weren't very instructional. We're not builders, but we're pretty clever. We got it figured out, and we finally, finally got it built.

Gravel and crushed-stone pad

Help from our friends.

A ways to go.

The marketing information claimed that two people could build the greenhouse in two days. It took us all of January. ALL of January. We laid down gravel. We laid down crushed rock. We scrutinized, read, videoed, experimented, put together, took apart, climbed ladders, scooted on our knees. One of us came to tears several times. One of us stayed calm and cheerful. We persevered, and we finally, finally got it built.

Thousands of screws, with tension pulling in several directions.

Light at the end of the tunnel.

Our farm cooperative, gathering to ooohh and aaahh.

Busily growing seedlings.

Never, never have I ever, ever had such a wonderful venue for sowing seeds, peering at germination, watering seedlings, crooning, and grinning. The greenhouse made our farm possible. I am in joyful love with our pretty, enduring, nurturing greenhouse.

Ready to grow a farm.