Purrrr
I can't think much of a people who drew cats the same for four thousand years.
-Lord Kitchener, on the Egyptians
It's final. We'll be building another greenhouse this year. And with that sentence I now must confront the cyclical nature of time.
Wasn't it just last January that I was building another greenhouse? Why, yes, it was. And the year before that, wasn't I rebuilding my first greenhouse? Why, yes, again.
This is not acceptable. There must be some sense of progress, some sense of a forward motion through both space and time where-in I get closer and closer to something that vaguely resembles success. Mustn't I? As it is, I repeat myself every year, not unlike the trees budding leaves or the daffodils coming up or the grass starting to grow again, or any one of those examples of things don't really seem to be getting anywhere.
All this is reinforced with-in me with the realization that I spent a great deal of time during the first week of the year placing seed orders. As if I haven't done that before.
I have it down by now, at the very least. Mark out a rectangle, then remeasure it to make sure its right. Then dig a lot of holes in the ground. Then, dig them deeper. Then put a lot of metal things in the ground. Hope they're all straight. Pull some of them up and redig some holes. Then, dig them deeper. Wait for a calm day. Try to put the plastic up. Wish you had waited for a calmer day. Keep knocking down all the weeds that are growing inside.
There. That's the process. I'll spare myself (and you) the tedium of documenting each and every task in this space.
A more troubling thing to me is the increasing amount of plastic in the front field. It used to be flat and green, and is now pitched and arched and hooped and plasticked. It's about the first thing that is seen when rounding the bend and coming onto the farm - not exactly the greeting I want to have for my visitors. We've been planting sunflowers along the road for a few years, and that's the kind of bright cheeriness I want people to see when they arrive. It's only for a few months, though. I'd like it if they were there all year. Perhaps I'll put up yet another greenhouse to grow sunflowers to hide the other greenhouses. Stay tuned.
-Lord Kitchener, on the Egyptians
It's final. We'll be building another greenhouse this year. And with that sentence I now must confront the cyclical nature of time.
Wasn't it just last January that I was building another greenhouse? Why, yes, it was. And the year before that, wasn't I rebuilding my first greenhouse? Why, yes, again.
This is not acceptable. There must be some sense of progress, some sense of a forward motion through both space and time where-in I get closer and closer to something that vaguely resembles success. Mustn't I? As it is, I repeat myself every year, not unlike the trees budding leaves or the daffodils coming up or the grass starting to grow again, or any one of those examples of things don't really seem to be getting anywhere.
All this is reinforced with-in me with the realization that I spent a great deal of time during the first week of the year placing seed orders. As if I haven't done that before.
I have it down by now, at the very least. Mark out a rectangle, then remeasure it to make sure its right. Then dig a lot of holes in the ground. Then, dig them deeper. Then put a lot of metal things in the ground. Hope they're all straight. Pull some of them up and redig some holes. Then, dig them deeper. Wait for a calm day. Try to put the plastic up. Wish you had waited for a calmer day. Keep knocking down all the weeds that are growing inside.
There. That's the process. I'll spare myself (and you) the tedium of documenting each and every task in this space.
A more troubling thing to me is the increasing amount of plastic in the front field. It used to be flat and green, and is now pitched and arched and hooped and plasticked. It's about the first thing that is seen when rounding the bend and coming onto the farm - not exactly the greeting I want to have for my visitors. We've been planting sunflowers along the road for a few years, and that's the kind of bright cheeriness I want people to see when they arrive. It's only for a few months, though. I'd like it if they were there all year. Perhaps I'll put up yet another greenhouse to grow sunflowers to hide the other greenhouses. Stay tuned.
2 Comments:
At January 12, 2007 4:16 PM, Anonymous said…
I understand - I was so excited about buying my greenhouse and now that it's up - it's so godawful UGLY. I was going to post photos but I can't bring myself to do it.
At January 12, 2007 7:14 PM, amy said…
i asked m. about their greenhouses blocking the view of town, and she said the lights have a nice twinkle through the plastic.
and welcome back!
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