Catcher in the Rye*

I thought there was a limit, but apparently there's not.  Sewings skills can be used just about everywhere.

Bones, just the bare bones

My sister was lamenting the demise of the grass catcher for her push mower. She brought it over so I could commiserate with her.  Maybe a short memorial service would be appropriate, a prayer or something. My heart wasn't into sympathy or mourning, and I pulled the rest of the disintegrated fabric from the catcher skeleton. Horrors!  Now it was just bare, naked bones, and I'd shown and paid no respect at all.




The next day remorse set in, and the image of warming up my sewing machine loomed large.  Since I was headed out on an errand that took me right next to the fabric store, picking up the parts for this project was simple.

and ready to mow

Brand renewed

So with a sewing machine, a drill, a hammer, pliers, 1/2 yard of fabric (only this came from the fabric store), thread and a couple yards of wire, new life--a new "body"--was breathed back into the grass catcher.  Just never can tell what will be part of the Things I get to do today.  Be prepared.

*It was not really in the "Rye."  But "Catcher in the Sewing Room" doesn't have the same ring or name recognition.

Unzipped

I'd been putting it off.  A retired seamstress/dressmaker, I know what kind of fabrics give me pleasure in the handling and process of constructing a garment.  Supple, natural fibers that press nicely and release the fragrance of their origins delight me immensely.  Greenhouse fabric is woven plastic, stiff, unmoving except to slide around, and one would not ever press it.  The Things I get to do today must include having Handy Andy dressmaker  build one Big Mama Dress.

Vertical Garden* retrofit with shelves

Last fall one of the Vertical Garden frames I had built was modified to spend part of its yearly cycle as a greenhouse (see "Zippers and Studs" October 15, 2011).  The shelves are spaced for maximum solar benefit and, when the plant-baby season is over, can be removed to  allow growning-up plants a strong support.

"Fabric" 12' wide and 50' long--don't need that much

But the greenhouse comes first.  Out with the plans.  Remeasure the structure and check against plans. Unroll the fabric.  Measure.  Cut fronts (center and sides), sides and top/back. Install the zippers.  Cut vents.  No words are available to describe the sewing process except that it was way too close to a wrestling match.  No blood and no final bell, but I won--pinned that sucker to the mat (sewing machine) and ended up with the enclosing part of the greenhouse--though there was little satisfaction in the process.

How to get this over her "head"
Where is her head?

Amazingly, the "dress" fit the oddly built dame in the garden.

All snuggled up

All farmers know the basic rule "Make hay while the sun shines."  Get the structure up, then fill all the containers  with seeds eager to sprout and sing in the sunshine.

Unzipped to welcome the sun

Unzipped, the front rolled up, the south side provides a perfect setting for seed song.

Recycled lettuce tubs to be filled
with potting soil and seeds

*Vertical Gardening by Allen Fell, Rodale Press.

Zippers and Studs

When I incorporated the "growing up" ideas from Derek Fell's new book Vertical Gardening (Rodale Press) into my very own planting space, I thought I had reached the pinnacle of efficiency for my garden.  Gardeners are also dreamers, however, and it should be noted there is always something beyond: nearly every gardener has buried in the soil of her heart, maybe not very deeply, a yearning for a greenhouse.

The most basic elements for a greenhouse from my limited experience are the covering and the structure to hold the covering.  Some plants can tolerate having a blanket right on top of them to keep in the warmth--it extends the growing season and could be called a greenhouse of sorts.  If seed starting is in the plans, one needs also shelves, space and good full-spectrum light.  The reason all of us longing for a greenhouse don't have one is: it's pretty challenging to put all these together without a major expense.  You've seen the full-color pictures in the garden catalogs, and you've seen the price tags.

Not long ago I was visiting my friend Liza and her garden.  Lady Luck was shining warmly on me that day.  Have you noticed when you're around very bright people your own imaginations gets stirred?  Well, that's what happened that day.  We were talking about her tomato support structure and greenhouses and growing good food and eating it when suddenly I saw it.

My vertical garden could be fall-fitted with shelves between the upright 4 x 4's.  I love 1/4" graph paper, and soon ideas took shape.  I calculated the sun's angle up through the spring equinox to determine the spacing of the shelves.  They were sized to hold old plant trays I had collected plus large rectangle plastic boxes saved from buying lettuces last winter.  Perfect.  And for materials, it turns out I had plenty of good-but-not-so-pretty 2 x 2's that wouldn't mind the muddy overflow from watering seedlings.

About six weeks ago my excitement around this creative "get to" pulled the project onto the Things I get to do today and the structure was built.  Winter was not even close so there was no need for the covering. But the very next day, I pulled up my bean vines to let the ripe seed pods dry.  As I stood up,  there before me was a shelf in the hot sun.  Immediate gratification!

Fall-fitted and ready for a cover

Top shelf detail:  2x2's on 2x4's (studs).

Very soon the covering will be sewn from a woven, light-allowing, tarp-like fabric designed for this purpose.  I'm fortunate to have a 12' x 50' roll in my garage that I begged off my sister awhile back.  The perpendicular "tent" design has zippers and vents and grommets and doodads and whohaws to please the fussiest of plants and gardeners.  The only cost to me is for some studs and a couple of zippers.  Between now and the future blog on this subject, you can figure out how those items work together.