A greenhouse gives you the unique opportunity to perform some real environmental Jiu-jitsu. As long as the sun is shining you can create a space that laughs at the cold—increasing the ambient temperature by more than 50 degrees and carving out a bit of summer from the depths of January. And there are many options. From the more-expensive-than-your-first-home models that boast an intimate relationship with the Queen, Kew Gardens, and Gertrude Jekyll, to A-frames that are little more than pup tents covered in cling film, you can find one to suit your needs.
I’ll always associate sturdy greenhouses with our time in England. You can’t swing a moggie without hitting a quirky, jam-packed glasshouse. Horticultural badass Monty Don has several, The Eden Project boasts a gigantic complex, and even our beloved Bury House abutted a twenty-foot Victorian greenhouse, lovingly tended by the irascible Mr. Steve. The silent negotiation for space during our first year bordered on an international incident. But my fondest memory has to be of a caddie I met on the northeastern coast of Scotland who, learning that I was a gardener, took me off-piste from the fourteenth fairway to show me his ramshackle greenhouse (“I get tomatoes! in June! here in Dornoch!)
Our pick is the Exaco Royal Victorian, the 15’x10’ model. We opted for tempered glass, with two automatic windows, in black coated aluminum. It hits a middle price-point and comes in a kit. An IKEA project on steroids. We’d hoped to have this up and running by November, but as detailed painfully in an earlier post, construction was delayed by unforeseen circumstances. Some of the project was a solo operation— digging footings, constructing the foundation, laying out parts—but there was no avoiding the fact that the bulk of this adventure would be a husband-and-wife-trial-by -fire.
Full disclosure: I have a very checkered history involving Laura in construction projects. Years of asking her to “Hold this anvil over your head while I read the instructions” has left her jaded (who am I kidding, I don’t read the instructions). If the international implications of my need for space in the UK was a challenge, this potential clash of cultures had real domestic repercussions. I had to get my act together.
It’s only now that I fully understand our differing points of view on project management. In my eye every build is an opportunity to place your individual stamp on the proceedings. It’s jazz, with bonus points awarded for the use of byzantine methods and leftover parts. And while my furniture design background makes it essential that the correct tools are always used, that no parts get damaged, and that things look and work perfectly, I hold little stock in “the man’s” idea of how it should go together. I look at step 55 and then think about how it can be done better, more artfully. Step 55 is like a solo: self-contained, its completion an end in itself. Laura sees connections. She looks at step 55 in the context of steps 56, 57 and 58 and sees mystical, possibly Masonic relationships within the process. Much of the construction is punctuated with me saying “Stop multi-tasking” and Laura replying “You’re working yourself into a corner.” The funny thing is that it works.
The arrival of two glorious days made a couple of marathon sessions possible and we knocked out the necessary construction with both the glass and our relationship intact. An honest assessment of the Exaco Royal Victorian is that it is a wonderful greenhouse, but if you don’t have a mechanical background the sometimes sloppy tolerances might make it a challenge. I have a shed-load of tools that include a variety of wrenches, clamps, and most importantly, an angle grinder so it was within my limited skill set.
And not a moment too soon, as a few days later we woke up to this:
Ahhh, Lions, Lambs, etc.
Another great post. I love the greenhouse. Pardon me if I've already said this but want you to know that your blog has led us to look at our place very differently. We had already begun efforts to re-plant some of the trees that used to be ubiquitous here, but the blog has helped me be in relationship to the land in different ways. Because of the blog, I'm on my second book by Tallamy - which has led us to expand our criteria for purchasing plants (we've moved beyond just "deer-resistant"). Have you read Drew Landham's book, The Home Place? Like your blog, the book reconnected me to our land and place. Our home doesn't go back as far as yours in terms of traditional ownership. We have learned that it is on a portion of the unceded territory of the Nisenan so we have studied about them to better understand the history.
Well done, you two! I like the ornate metalwork along the apex of the roof, as well as the two windows for venting. Himself and I have long parted ways over joint projects--fortunately our lads are both able to work with him and steer him in the right direction. Laura, you have my utter admiration for working so well with the free-wheeling male of the species, for whom instructions are mere suggestions. It looks super.