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| Yeah ... we'll call that good. |
As this Winter's previous posts should have adequately prepared the reader, I just can't fight it anymore. The weather, that is. So if our much-anticipated new greenhouse (greenshanty? greenshack? more of a green-to, really) project stands nearly complete one day and lies toppled by 50 mph winds the next morning, I am at this point inclined to just roll with it. Yep, I don't care that it resembles nothing so much as an ill-fated foray into horticulture by one of the two less provident Little Pigs after an encounter with that huffy-puffy wolf, it gets the Fencebroke Promontory seal of Good Enough. (I've a sneaking suspicion this will not be the last time we break out that seal this season).
Therefore, it is in this spirit of lowered expectations and with no particular pride that I present ... <cue a single rusty trumpet's broken fanfare> ... The (Sponsor-to-be-Named) Conservatory at Fencebroke Promontory Gardens, henceforth and in perpetuity known as ... The Green-To, I guess.
This structure will doubtless provide little practical use and will serve instead as a grating reminder of the powerlessness of man and woman and the primacy, capriciousness, and wanton misanthropy of nature. Because, like a birdbath, shouldn't every garden have one of those?
The gardening community feels your pain. It is universal. it is the pain of unsprouted seeds, the pain of of a bean crop languishing in the cold, frustrated and unfulfilled, suffering the ignominy of rotting or being eaten by the crows. The pain of a Basil plant put out too soon, shriveling and dead, never to grace the pizza for which it was destined. The tulips might make it though.
ReplyDeleteOh shoot!! I just kept looking out at that and thinking how cool it was going to be........sigh. Garden art maybe?????
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