Greenhouse Party
Kicked around in the greenhouse a bit today.
No, I didn't lift anything.
I'm thinking about having a greenhouse party of sorts in a week or two. It just needs its usual spring cleaning - well, spring scrubbing - well, spring scrubbing and duct taping - before it gets filled up with tiny little plants. Some of the tables need to be moved around, and various debris needs to be put away - the sorts of things that would go a lot better if I had a few folks here to help me with the heavy lifting.
Hence the party. I decided to walk around today and make a list of what really needs to be done, and then the steps that need to be enacted to get those things done. Lists of tools, lists of supplies, etc. I want to make sure everything is on hand and ready when folks show up.
Might even make some gumbo.
As I've said a number of times, I'm pretty fortunate to have broken a bone in the winter. If this had happened mid-summer, I'd really be in a jam. I take my blessings where I can.
Anyway, the mind starts to spin out with other projects: a chicken coop party, a barn party, a what's-in-the-cabinet-under-the-sink party.... I wonder how long I can tax community support.
Speaking of community support.
B* and K* were living here when I built the barn. We came up with a plan to get the thing built in a day. We'd go to an Amish community and adorn the telephone poles with fliers announcing a barn raising. (Do Amish communities have telephone poles? Well, we were going to get the word out somehow.) We'd let our beards get good and bushy and borrow some horses to graze in the front yard. When everyone showed up, we'd have a pig roasted and forty-two apples pies baked. "Welcome, everyone!" we'd shout. "Remember us? Your long lost cousins? We're so happy you're here!" The barn would get put up in no time. We'd all feast together under our new roof. We'd stay together long into the night, swapping tales of harnesses and wood stoves. We'd talk about suspenders and oil lanterns and snap peas. We'd pray together. We'd dance around a fire pit. In the morn, we'd bid our teary farewells.
It would've worked if anyone had actually showed up.
No, I didn't lift anything.
I'm thinking about having a greenhouse party of sorts in a week or two. It just needs its usual spring cleaning - well, spring scrubbing - well, spring scrubbing and duct taping - before it gets filled up with tiny little plants. Some of the tables need to be moved around, and various debris needs to be put away - the sorts of things that would go a lot better if I had a few folks here to help me with the heavy lifting.
Hence the party. I decided to walk around today and make a list of what really needs to be done, and then the steps that need to be enacted to get those things done. Lists of tools, lists of supplies, etc. I want to make sure everything is on hand and ready when folks show up.
Might even make some gumbo.
As I've said a number of times, I'm pretty fortunate to have broken a bone in the winter. If this had happened mid-summer, I'd really be in a jam. I take my blessings where I can.
Anyway, the mind starts to spin out with other projects: a chicken coop party, a barn party, a what's-in-the-cabinet-under-the-sink party.... I wonder how long I can tax community support.
Speaking of community support.
B* and K* were living here when I built the barn. We came up with a plan to get the thing built in a day. We'd go to an Amish community and adorn the telephone poles with fliers announcing a barn raising. (Do Amish communities have telephone poles? Well, we were going to get the word out somehow.) We'd let our beards get good and bushy and borrow some horses to graze in the front yard. When everyone showed up, we'd have a pig roasted and forty-two apples pies baked. "Welcome, everyone!" we'd shout. "Remember us? Your long lost cousins? We're so happy you're here!" The barn would get put up in no time. We'd all feast together under our new roof. We'd stay together long into the night, swapping tales of harnesses and wood stoves. We'd talk about suspenders and oil lanterns and snap peas. We'd pray together. We'd dance around a fire pit. In the morn, we'd bid our teary farewells.
It would've worked if anyone had actually showed up.
2 Comments:
At January 12, 2006 7:48 AM,
Anonymous said…
I'm not Amish, but I'd love to come to the greenhouse party! And I think gumbo is a Very Good Idea. Or roast pig, for that matter.
I'm feeling somewhat less enthusiastic about the cabinet-cleaning-out party, though.
At January 13, 2006 11:07 AM,
Casey said…
I'll just watch from a distance, and you can tell me how the parties go. Maybe I should tell Z*, and he can have a finish-the-gutters party.
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