Tenacious Z and the Dream Greenhouse

  It's been awhile since I updated you. The good news is the plants are all in place and thriving. The not so good news is that I haven't been able to hang out with them, because, well, there are problems. The greenhouse structure was finished at Halloween. Here we are and it’s almost Christmas and it’s taken this long for me to figure out why my ventless gas heater wouldn’t stay on, and also that it was woefully underpowered for this space. It's taken me this long to select and take delivery of the right heater for the job. A few nights in the teens proved that I had to get something bigger. I had to borrow an electric heater from Shila to keep it above 55 in there. Gawrsh. 

This, of course, is primarily because I have to have all four windows cracked a little open to admit enough fresh air in for combustion. The solarium is THAT tight. Tight as a drum. So on cold days and nights there is a constant frigid draft. Between the pervasive gas smell and the draft, I haven't been comfortable spending much leisure time in there. The plants are fine, staying warm enough and growing beautifully. But it’s not yet safe Zick habitat. I keep the sliding glass door to my bedroom shut all the time, unless it's warm enough outdoors to turn the heat off. 

I had a consultation with Wilson Heating. What a relief to have HVAC professionals step into the space and assess it from the perspective of their years of experience. Don and Austin Wilson proposed that I obtain an Empire wall furnace, powered by natural gas, with 35,000 BTU capability. But the single most important thing is that this heater has what’s called a concentric vent. Fresh air flows in from outside, and exhaust goes out in another pipe nestled in the same vent. It’s like a cloaca for the heater. And it’s exactly what I’ve been needing. Oh, to be able to close those dratted windows for once, and have this space heated like any snug room! Oh, to be free of the ridiculous condensation that runs down the glass--a byproduct of  the oxygen-starved ventless heater! And we’re so close!

As my long-awaited wall furnace arrives, Curtis shows exactly how much he is worth as a watchdog in this clip. Which is Nothing. Worthless.

On Friday, when the heater was finally delivered, this huge semi truck came up the driveway bearing the heater which weighs well over 100 lb. And right behind the truck, totally by chance, came Bob McCollister, from American Glass and Metalworks, here on a separate mission to fix a leaky door. What are the chances that two people in huge trucks would arrive at the same moment? 

Then the problem was: How were we going to get that huge heavy heater down to the greenhouse? My dolly would be useless. The driver had an electric forklift but could its tiny iron wheels travel over the gooshy mud of my beat up lawn? We had to try. The driver pulled and I pushed and the forklift hummed. When it got bogged down I pushed harder. And against all odds we got it to the greenhouse door! But it needed to be carried in. Enter Bob. The two men hoisted it inside. I was sooo grateful. My lower back has been in spasm for awhile and too much lifting is why. Two angels got it done. I don’t know what Providence sent them at the same moment but it was so lucky for me. Two Man Lift:

On Saturday, Jeff Cline came over to bore a 9” hole in the beautiful wall he’d built. It was hard to watch, but you’ve got to squeeze some lemons if you’re going to get lemonade! I played assistant, keeping a steady stream of water on the masonry blade to keep the dust down. It was a mess, but not as bad as it could have been. 

                                      

The heater came with a template to help Jeff make sure he would be drilling the hole in exactly the right spot. There's no room for error when you're talking rigid pipe, a 130 lb. heating unit, and solid concrete.

We measured five times and cut once. My dad taught me that.

Jeff Drills a Hole

This felt like a scene from The Great Escape, except I think they used spoons and knives to break through the wall.  Breakthrough! 

   

And now the heater sits, unpacked and ready, in the middle of the space. I so hope it can be up and running for Christmas. I understand that everyone is slammed, especially heating contractors, and it's getting on Christmas. I'm prepared to wait, but I'd love not to have to! My friend Carin L. suggested I go by the nickname "Tenacious Z." I loved that! and oh, how I love Tenacious D, Jack Black's duo with Kyle Gass. It fits. Whatever it takes to get The Greatest Greenhouse in the History of the World, I'll do it! 

                             

Baby Baby, All Night Long

 When we last left our hopeful heroine, the gas line had been newly replaced, gas heater installed, and all the plants had been replaced in the new greenhouse. It was time to relax and enjoy the space. Or was it?

I woke up at 1 AM on Sunday, November 5, checked--blue flame showing. OK. Went back to sleep. At 4 I woke up again to a rapidly cooling greenhouse and a dead stove. With some difficulty and a long wait, I got it started again, only to have it cut off again at 9 AM. There went all my theories about it going off when the house gas demand was at its lowest. I was running two furnaces and cooking breakfast when it went off the second time. What the hell. Why wouldn't this stove stay lit?

At this point I had to conclude it was the heater. Maybe it has a bad thermocouple. So I called Kathy and Bill W, my beloved neighbors who swoop in to rescue me with great regularity. And that Sunday afternoon, we switched  out the heaters, and put Old Reliable in the new one's place. I knew this heater was bombproof. This HAD to be it. We'd replaced the line; we had gas; it had to be a malfunctioning heater. I went to bed with all the plants out in the greenhouse, closed the sliding glass door...

I woke up at 3:22 AM on Monday, November 6, checked the heater. The air was cold; the heater was dark. Old Reliable had kicked off, too. ARRRRGHHHHHH!!!

At this point I knew I was well and truly screwed. But I didn't cry; I didn't freak out. I just restarted the damn thing, got back into bed, and tried to sleep again. I was so very tired, night after night tending this stupid heater like a crying newborn baby. And I didn't even have a cute cuddly baby to show for it. I was so done with worrying about the plants, worrying about whether I'd ever be able to use or enjoy this new space that beckoned me through the glass. Just exhausted. I'd worked myself to the bone to get this dream off the ground, and all I got was sand in my face, night after night after night. I couldn't sleep for worrying.

On top of that, whole space reeked of gas. All the time. You might think I'd have been sitting out there every chance I got. Well, I wasn't, because I didn't want to breathe that reek. I was spooked, clear through. I felt lost, uncertain and in a certain way, cheated. This isn't how it was supposed to smell. This isn't how it was supposed to be. I kept the glass doors that led into the house closed all the time. Even when I'd pop out to see if the heater had died in the middle of the night, I closed the doors behind me. I didn't want to be breathing that reek. It was awful. Not only that, but there was so much condensation running down the glass and pooling on the frame and floor that I went out and bought big microfiber cloths to mop it up with. I'd wring them out into the plant pots, and keep mopping, all day long. So much water I put an African saddle-billed stork in there to look for fish.

I couldn't remember ever noticing a gas reek in the little old Groanhouse. I didn't have a ridiculous amount of condensation, either. A pleasant humidity, for sure, but not quarts of water running down. What the hell was going on? Why couldn't I keep a heater going? And why was I drowning in condensation?

It was time to contact Chip Ditchendorf, my friend who is also a contractor who knows all the best people, who put me in touch with my gutter guy, my mason, and several other outfits as well. I described the problem with the gas stove going off predictably every night around 2:30 AM and often the next morning, too. I told him all that we'd done--replaced the entire gas line, switched out two different heaters, and still this happened every night. And Chip asked, "Have you ruled out make up air? The greenhouse might be too air tight? Maybe leave a louvre opened a little." 

I thought I knew the answer to that. "No I don’t think airtightness is the issue. Space is absolutely huge and there is a gap in the door, and it happens when the fan is going too."

Well. I was dead wrong, as I so often am, and Chip had already figured it out. But just to be sure, he texted Jason Forshey, a local expert on gas installation. And this was around 6 AM, on the morning when I figured I was just screwed, after the SECOND gas heater we installed on the BRAND NEW gas line had cut off at 2:30 AM. 

 I can't tell you how honored I am to have Chip asking questions on my behalf, of the person most knowledgeable in this field, at SIX in the MORNING. In Chip's words: "He deals with this stuff. He is also in demand/on fire. It's like getting an audience with a tribal warlord. I have his ear. I'll text you shortly."

Instead, Jason Forshey himself called me around 7. Asked me a bunch of questions. One of them was, "Is there a lot of condensation on the inside of the windows?" 

"YES. Quarts and quarts! I have to mop it up several times a day and wring out the cloths!" 

Jason told me that that excess condensation is a byproduct of an open flame gas heater that is starved for oxygen. "There's carbonic acid in that water. You don't want that," he said. 

Fer sure! I don't want carbonic acid; I don't want all the condensation, and I want my durn heater to stay on! 

Jason explained to me that the heater was getting starved for oxygen in the wee hours, and kicking off for safety reasons. The greenhouse is simply too well-built--too tight--and fresh air can't get in anywhere. There's a tiny slit between the doors, but it doesn't bring enough air in the feed the flame. Ironically, when I'd drag myself out of bed and open the sliding door from my bedroom, and pop in to try to re-start the heater, that act would let in juust enough fresh air for the heater to run for a couple more hours. If only I'd known that's what was going on! It had been a rough nine nights.

Mr. Forshey told me to try cracking the windows that evening, and see how it did. Wow. That's a simple fix...I can DO that!

So I opened all four windows about a half-inch. And I left the plants in there, and the heater ran all night, HALLELU!! For the very first time, I had heat all night! Of course I woke up at 1 and 3 and 5, staggered to the window to check...and the blue flame was smiling back at me each time. I went back to sleep with a dreamy smile on my face. The Tribal Warlord of Gas had explained it all. Of course, Chip had figured it out already, but it was really nice to have confirmation from someone who does this full-time.

I thought I had made it through the worst passage in the greenhouse construction: when I had a greenhouse but couldn't seem to heat it. But it's not over yet. I still have a bunch of things to figure out. 

I've held this post because the landscape is changing so fast. Since I wrote this, a polar vortex rolled in with a couple of days that haven't gotten out of the upper 20's F. And, because I HAVE to crack the windows to let in air, the little gas heater I was assured would heat the space has been fighting to keep temperatures inside the structure in the 50's. Awk! I had to borrow an electric space heater from Shila to augment its efforts, which are surprisingly feeble at full tilt. Time to call Chip again, for another reference.

Wilson Heating's experts just came for a consultation, confirming a lot of what I've learned by hard experience. 

1. I'm woefully underpowered with my little blue flame heater.

2. The gas smell just goes with the territory on an unvented heater in a tight space. Ugh. No. Need another solution.

3. Cracking the windows is giving my heat to the great outdoors. There is a better way: to get a larger heater that is vented both for fresh air and exhaust.

4. It's probably not going to be possible to both heat and air condition this space. This is not a surprise to me. Heating is mandatory. AC, nah. I'm fine with using it for only three seasons. In summer, I'm moving my plants out and gardening outside, not trying to sit inside a glass box. 

Until then, I am happy with the greenhouse structure, but I don't spend as much time in it as I'd love to, because there is still a scent of gas in the air that freaks me out. The only time I sit in there and work or read or do my language lessons is on warm days when I can open the windows fully. Time to move on from using an open flame heater.

The four side windows only open 6" at full crank. Wish it were twice that! I asked about some kind of extender and the glass guys told me there's nothing that can be done. I certainly hope the automatic roof louver will take care of the major ventilation come summer.

So Wilson Heating is looking into wall-mounted gas heaters (possibly radiant, as opposed to open flame) and I cannot WAIT to see what they recommend.  Ideally, they'll find a vented one that will both pull in fresh air and send its exhaust outside. Until then, I'm leaving all four windows open at night, from a quarter inch to 1" wide, depending on the outside temperature. As you might imagine, this is a lousy strategy when it's 20 degrees out there. It's drafty and uncomfortable.

 After a rough period when the built-up gas fumes blasted all the blossoms before they opened, the greenhouse now seems to be treating the plants pretty well. Things are coming back into bud and bloom and the blossoms seem to be completing their normal life cycles. (With the exception of my Thanksgiving cacti, which took great offense to the space, dropped buds, and had to be brought back inside).  I think I've got enough oxygen coming in for the plants, even if it isn't quite enough for me. I take a great deal of pleasure in potting plants up and arranging them where they'll get the right light and heat. I'm not there yet, but it's so much better.

It's been very frustrating, running into these issues and having to figure out what's going on by myself. I can't imagine I'm the first person to run into this problem with a newly constructed solarium or greenhouse that needs supplemental heat, but is so tightly constructed that a gas heater uses up all the oxygen in it and cuts itself off. Surely that's happened to someone else! For some reason, it didn't occur to me to turn back to Botanical Greenhouses LLC for advice until just this week. When I did, I got some great advice both from Jen Sutton of BGLLC and Bob McCollister of American Glass and Metal Works, and that set me on the path of consulting with Chip and then with Wilson Heating. They helped me understand that there IS a heater out there that will do this job, and I just have to ask the right people to consider the space and make recommendations. I'm looking for something that won't roar like a shop heater, stink like an open flame heater; something that will allow me to keep the doors open between my bedroom and the solarium.

If anything has surprised me, it's how much I've had to learn to get this project done. I came into it knowing absolutely nothing about the process or what would be involved in constructing a solarium. I had to figure out how to get a concrete pad poured, and a foundation built, and I'm in the process of figuring out how to get the whole place wired in a way I can afford (the last estimate I got set my hair on fire). I'll get the heat situation figured out, too, in time. It's all a question of asking the right people for help. I am lousy at asking for help, always thinking I might have the answer, but this experience has made me more willing to throw up my hands and the white flag when I'm outclassed by the obstacles I am facing. On the bright side, I've kept this record right here on the blog, recording just how thorny it's been, so anyone embarking on such a project will at least go into it forewarned and forearmed. 

Creole Lady says, "You keep working on it. I'll keep pumping out the lunch-plate sized blossoms, because this suits me just fine!

Yes, it'll be my happy place, in time. We're most of the way there.

I can't wait until I can sit in here for hours, working away, or just gazing around at the plants I adore so much, and the bright or snowy winter days outside. 

Nothing good ever came easy, I guess!

I've Got Gas Problems

I used to say, when life got hard, that forbearance is my superpower. I've been flying low with my Cape of Forbearance these last few weeks, keeping it all in perspective, knowing that problems get solved eventually. Waiting for the eventual is tough, but in light of what much of the world's populace is going through now, it's nothing. I have a little problem, and it'll get solved, eventually. Here's my little problem.

(This was written on November 15. I've figured some things out since then, but it's not yet the way I want it. Anyway, here's the story).

For ten nights, I've been waking up at 1, 2, 3, 4...and going out to check the heater in the greenhouse. It has been kicking off every single night, usually from 2 to about 4, and then often around 9 or 10  the next morning. Charming habit, that, especially when nights are in the 20's. We installed the newer of the two small Dynaglo blue flame gas space heaters, reasoning that the newer one might be better. Both saw use last winter. I got the new one probably in December 2022.

 Walter and I have been trying to figure out what's been going on with this heater the entire time. First we blew out the line using gas pressure, to see if there was water in it (none came out, though there was a lot of water in it when Walter did the initial hook-in). Finally we concluded that there had to be a problem with the line, so I asked Lane Johns to come back and dig out the 23' line with his small excavator. 

It was delicate work, excavating the shallowly buried gasline, but I was sure we didn't want to dig it by hand. The clay was muddy and heavy as could be.

We were very surprised to see 1" PVC running from the house to the L junction, where a 2' segment of 1/2" iron line was connected. We thought we'd found the problem--maybe that 1" line was too big, and the gas lacked sufficient pressure to push through 23' and around the L-bend of probably 5' to the heater. 

So on Nov. 4 Walter replaced the entire line. All new 1/2" iron pipe, fittings, everything ship-shape. We had to rule out a bad line as the reason for the heater kick-off.

It was a huge day, November 4. Not only did Johns Excavating come to dig out the line, but Walter, Brandon and Kevin came to mow the meadows with my old Massey '54, and to burn a couple of my huge "rok's nest" brushpiles. I was pretty excited to see the tractor and excavator both deployed at once.

Curtis, of course, was completely nonplussed.

Though I did absolutely everything on Nov. 4, which was the big mow and burn and putting the bonsais to bed,  with heavy equipment roaring all around, before I allowed myself to go to bed, I committed the ultimate act of hope: I replaced all the plants in the greenhouse.  We had a new gasline. Surely the heater would run all night tonight!

You see, I'd been shuttling them in at night for the last 8 days so I could sleep, for gosh sake, without having to wonder if they were slowly freezing to death out there after 2 AM. My lower back was absolutely shot, lugging those monstrous plants in and out of the bedroom every evening and back out into the greenhouse every morning. Leaving the plants for the night was my way of saying, "We've got this conquered now. The struggle is over. Time to enjoy this greenhouse. All will be well."

To Be Continued...

End of Day Three: Glam Shots

I started my day with a Curtis walk around the property, as we always do, rain or shine. The blackberries are just--chef's kiss, so fabulous. All I want to do is paint little birds in blackberry foliage in October. But I don't, because there's this thing going on at my house right now. I cannot tell you how all-consuming it is to have this going on around me. It keeps me here and dealing with all the change.

I have considerable fear of missing out on the fall foliage display here in my favorite places in Ohio--I yearn to drive through Amish country right now! But my bonsais do their best to placate me. This one is on fire in three colors. Wow, what a beauty!

By the end of the third day, the doors went on. Oh are they wonderful. They're full-size professional looking doors, self-closing with hydraulics. You could get a garden cart through them. I'm already wishing they had a screen option on the top half. I'm worried that if I leave them propped open to ventilate in spring and summer, the squirrels and rabbits will just walk in and destroy my plants, as they did in the Groanhouse. What a shock to walk into your greenhouse and find your geraniums and hibiscus in rubble on the floor. I'm going to have to figure out something for that--maybe a sturdy screened insert for one. No idea how to pull it off, but I'll be thinking about what I can do.

Yes, I intend to grow in here year round, if I can, and if it doesn't get too hot. 

To that end, there are three panes at the apex of the ceiling that are connected to an electric motor.

That motor will hook up to a thermostat, and it will automatically raise the three louvers about 6" when the heat builds to a certain temperature. I'm sure that, coupled with the fan in the rafters, that will cool it down quickly. 

I've found an electrician who will come and wire this in for me, and put another outlet or two in for the inevitable twinkle lights, laptops, sound system...whatever. I'm in total womancave space here. He just left after assessing the project and it sounds like he can suspend the light cords from magnetic anchors (because there is absolutely nothing that can be attached to on this frame). Then he can wire my little lights so I can flip a switch and turn them on! 

Below is the suspended fan, and a nice interior shot. There are crank out windows on either side, but they only open about 6". Wish they cranked all the way out! Maybe I won't have to worry too much about it getting too hot in here. The solarium is on the west side of the house, and it is shielded from direct sun by the tower above until pretty late in the afternoon (say 2:00 on). There are also birch clumps to shade it. I knew if I put a greenhouse on the east or south side, it would cook everything, louvers or no, because that's unobstructed full blasting sun from dawn until 1 or 2 pm. So the west side was the obvious choice. The things I grow don't need that much sun!

I got to see what Curtis was up to on lunch break...begging shamelessly, and scoring, too. That dog. 

 

The McCollisters discovered that two of the louver panes were the wrong size, so they were becalmed until two that were the right size could be airlifted from Florian Glass in South Carolina. They got a chance to clean up the yard and haul all the trash into the garage (burnables) or out to the road for pickup. 

While they did that, I cooked a meal of gratitude: homemade chicken pot pie and a custard pie with graham cracker crust, topped with persimmons I'd foraged on Tuesday from my favorite trees in Marietta. I picked up 10 lb. which worked out to 5 1/2 lb of pulp.  If I say so myself, it was delicious. Even if persimmons were a hard sell for this particular crowd. From the moment I met this crew, I knew I wanted to make them a nice meal. So that kept me busy all afternoon, and out of their hair. 

Then it was time for some victory laps!

and a glamour shot! So good of that Japanese maple to be deep maroon right now! Isn't she a beauty?

Now all I had to do was find an electrician for the louver motor, and a gas technician to hook up a space heater. Chip Ditchendorf rescued me on the electrician, but it took seven calls to find someone to help with the gas hookup. Lord have mercy. Gotta say I'm weary of fighting my way upstream here, but these are the times. Anyone who does house repair/installation/renovation work is booked up to their eyeballs. 

I finally called my friend Walter Dean, who also helps me mow and burn, and he came through, bigtime!

However the gas hookup was not to be a smooth ride, as you will see in subsequent posts.

Mr. Murphy and his Law are my constant companions. 

So it was out to the meadow we went, to gaze at the colors and breathe and try to calm down and know that all would happen in its time.

And the house was lit afire by the setting sun, in a field of burning sumac. 

 

Day Two: Building the Frame

The day started innocently enough, with the flashing cap on the wall tops, the facing on the building...

I went inside to leave them to their work.

The saw was set up under the studio window, where Brian and Bob conferred.

There was a LOT of banging and hammering from outside, and things were jumping off the shelves on that wall. I was rescuing figurines left and right. I kept at my blogging about the prior stages, though, never thinking to check on the progress...

and the next time I went out to look, there was a building frame in place!

I squawked so loudly the three men jumped and stared at me, thinking I was upset about something, when I was just hopping mad at myself for missing the construction. We had a laugh afterward.

Lots of ladders for three men. More ladders than men! 

I didn't expect it to look quite like this. I don't know what I expected. I keep walking around and staring at it, like a kid whose dad went away for a few months and grew a beard. It's just so different! I realized that I had this kind of wispy image of a lean-to greenhouse and this looked so solid and square and strong. So it took some getting used to.

I went out with Curtis to take some mail and stared at the clouds for awhile. Truly, it's all too much for me, the way it's happening all at once, and it's going up so fast.

When I won't be in the way, I sneak into the space and imagine it with glass and plants. That makes me very happy.

The glass awaits, leaning in boxes against the house. But for the swarming ladybugs, they've got perfect weather to work all week. For that I'm very, very thankful!

The overall scene.

 By sundown, they had the frame all built, and had put in quite a bit of the glass. The McCollister men do not fool around. They work sunup to dark, head to town, do a Door Dash, sleep, then get up and do it again. Next: Glass goes in! 

I promise I won't make you wait so long for the next installment. I can't apologize for not blogging daily. It's been so much work getting everything done that needs to be done before the cold clamps down. In one day, with a forecast for days of pouring rain followed by freezing temperatures, I turned the earth and finally replanted the flowers on Bill's grave, mucked out the fishpond and cleaned the filters, and dug a 9-foot L-shaped trench for the greenhouse gas line. Then I went to Lowe's to (fruitlessly) try to buy gasline fittings. I gave up after two hours of trying to figure out what to buy, because I know when I'm beat. I'm doing things like that, and trying to keep up with blogging in the cracks. My body is sore all over at nightfall, and then I, too, get up and do it again (albeit with a lot less sleep than I'd like, because it all worries me). But it's all for the good, and I can't wait to show you the end result! And there IS an end result!

The Glass Men are Here!

Here's the last photo I took of my walled patio, as I had come to think of it, on the morning of October 24, 2023.  Curtis and I were setting out on our morning hike, and we were waiting for a 9 AM meetup with the glass crew. Along about 8:55, Curtis took off running toward the house, leaving me out at the end of the orchard. I heard laughter from the yard and knew he'd found his mark. Sic 'em, Curt! 

From left: Brian, Tim and Bob McCollister from American Glass and Metalworks.  It's three brothers...omg they crack me up. Right away, I had to figure out the difference between Tim and Bob. Tim has a wavy beard and Bob's is straight. Both their beards are breathtaking. I say that as someone for whom it has taken about eight years to get used to great big beards. I'll never forget walking into a bar in Marietta when the trend was first starting and seeing all these young guys with beards from the Civil War standing around with beers. And beards. I actually asked what the heck was going on. Now I kinda dig it. 

I asked  Brian why he doesn't have a bee beard and Tim said it's because he doesn't have the hormones for it. Snort laugh! Tim is particularly terrible. But later Brian told me Tim got worms from his hogs (I said ringworm isn't a worm) and they were even. Brian is the eldest, Tim is the youngest, and Bob (in neon green) is the middle sibling, cracking the whip!

I would hang around all day just to listen to them give each other grief but don't want to be in the way.

If you look closely in the picture above you'll see Curtis is panting, because has just finished an enormous zoom through the backyard in his extreme joy at having a crew to snoopervise for the next few days. It was so funny and fast I couldn't get it on video.

The McCollisters live down south, Savannah and Georgia, and they convene for road trips to install greenhouses. They stay in a hotel for the duration of each job, which will run about four days here on Indigo Hill.

The first day was a lot of nitty gritty measuring and making sure everything was going to work. Which it will. In this photo, note that they've cut off siding and applied boards to which they can anchor the greenhouse frame, up there under the slot windows. It's really happening! 

It was very exciting seeing the struts leaning against my liberated bonsai!

There's a cap of metal flashing atop the wall, which will integrate it with the bronze frame. I had a choice of white or bronze. Knowing how algae loves to grow inside greenhouses, I opted for the darker color. I would have liked white, but the inside of the Groanhouse was absolutely green with algae after ten years, and I don't want to look at that. I'll figure out how to wash it down over time. I can run a hose in there and have at it.

A significant wrinkle in Oct. 24th's progress was the annual explosion of Asian multicolored lady beetles, the dreaded, detested ladybugs that get in everything. They were flooding into the house by every crack and crevice, and poor Brian, who was putting facing on the high siding, was bundled up in a hoodie on this warm afternoon, just trying to keep them out of his clothes. They were so bad even Curtis couldn't stand to be outdoors, but the crew kept working through this fresh hell.

Photos can't begin to show the horror of a house seething with ladybugs, which head right for one's face and neck, crawling down your shirt and up your pants legs. Then they work their way into every door and window opening so they can spend the winter biting your neck and the back of your arms, getting into the butter and the sautée pan, filling the vacuum tank so it always smells like ladybug BO when you vacuum. That kind of thing.

Curtis made sure everything was ship shape on the site.

 

Later, the ladybugs go so bad he asked to come inside. He went downstairs to continue snoopervising 

from bed! 

At sundown, the McCollisters and I went up to the towertop to see the colors. It was a nice break from the beetle assault. They would be here until dark, and they'd show up shortly after daybreak the 25th, to erect the metal frame for the glass. I didn't sleep too well that night, for the excitement of it all. The blazing fall foliage would be excitement enough, but having a greenhouse suddenly appear after nine months of gestation was a bit much for my nervous system!

Facing the Stone Walls: Greenhouse Construction Continues

October 7 was a dreary, cold day, made considerably brighter by the arrival of Jeff Cline, who came to apply the manufactured stone facing I'd chosen for the greenhouse foundation walls. 

At first I had thought I'd have it only on the outside, but I quickly realized, living with the structure for a month, that the part I'd see most was the inside, so it was important to me to put beautiful stone there, too. In the photo above you can see the huge difference it makes, comparing the raw cinder block of the inside with the stone-faced outside.

He got most of it done on a Saturday of work, starting around noon. Amazing! This is why we hire professionals.

The stone is manufactured in Amish country Ohio. There are several companies that do it. This is Weatherledge Tan and it's made by Prestige. I chose it because it was pretty close to the natural riverstone that makes up the chimney on the house. I also liked its light color and the occasional orange and red stones in the mix. We're all about warm colors here.

Dorito break! 

He's leaving blank the area around where the big glass double doors will go. He won't finish up until the glass is installed, because he doesn't want to interfere with the installation. I caught a video of Jeff putting the last couple of stones in the south outer wall.  I love to think how his brain works, getting the mix of stone sizes and shapes just organically right. He must have jumped up a hundred times to back up and look at it overall, like the artist he is. I do that in the studio all the time! 

Here's a glam shot of the walls. Now, the buff-colored grout (Colonial Buff) isn't in yet. He keeps telling me how awesome it's going to look with the colored grout. I believe it, because it looks pretty awesome right now! 

And here comes the grout!

Colored grout gives it a pulled-together, finished look

which I particularly appreciate on the inner walls

which are the ones I'll see most often as I appreciate my new living space with my planties (as Bill called them) all around me.

Jeff has  left the area around the double glass doors unfaced so as not to interfere with their installation. He'll come back and finish it all off when the glass has been installed.

What a beautiful job he's done. If you need masonry work in the Marietta, Ohio area, 

Jeff Cline is your guy.

All this whets my appetite for the glass installation, the basic rudiments of which began TODAY, October 24! And the thought of  being able to install my plants in it at last, once the two gas space heaters are installed, is the most delicious of prospects. It's been such a long and sometimes weary road, but we're finally getting there. I'm kinda waiting for the next person who innocently exclaims, "You're so LUCKY to have a greenhouse!"

 And I might just sing softly, 

What's LUCK got to do, got to do with it?