Rx: Greenhouse

My husband woke up with a headache and a sour attitude this morning. Poor guy. But it was a rare sunny spring morning here in the Tongass National Rainforest, and Easter Sunday to boot, so he gallantly held it together. And though I recommended he take an easy day, he offered to build the greenhouse I’d been hoping for since the snow melted last month. There’re two reasons I didn’t protest. One, I really want that greenhouse – my tomato starts are straining against the confines of their tiny pots and the family is looking forward to ordering some quail chicks – and two, as my blog title suggests, I believe that creating something with one’s own two hands is some of the best therapy around. Especially for a bad mood.

Yeah… easy for me to say, I wasn’t the one using the tools, but it did indeed seem to help him. He was downright chipper be the end of the day, and proud of his work. So here are the steps he and I took to create a bright, warm space for summer tomatoes, winter greens, and a four-season covey of quail:

1. I determined the best location for the greenhouse. Requirements: southern exposure, immediate access from kitchen or dining room, ready access to electricity, blocking none of our world-class Southeast Alaska views, large enough for 4-6 tomato plants (or several pots of winter hardy greens) and 4-6 quail.
   
   At our house, with no yards, all of these requirements are met on the 5 ft by 14 ft deck off the dining room. To facilitate outdoor eating I designed the dining room with two narrow glass exterior doors on either side of a dining-table-width window. These two doors open onto the “dining deck.” When eating outside, the doors give access to both sides of the indoor and outdoor dining tables. But my desire for home-grown veggies and eggs was great enough to sacrifice some access during al fresco dinner parties (a rare occurrence in Rain Country anyways). We would locate a 3 ft by 5 ft greenhouse directly outside one of the narrow doors, offering the added benefit of blocking view of our dining area from the neighbor’s front porch, five feet away.. The rest of the deck would still be large enough for a small table and chairs and the barbeque. Urban homesteading indeed.

2. I designed a traditional gable-roofed little greenhouse. My husband designed a shed-roofed greenhouse. Oops. The problem with having two architects in the family. Though I still prefer my design, He-With-Access-to-the-Tools wins. I practiced deep breathing exercises as I watched the shed roof going on, and bit my tongue when snide “arrogant-architect-ignoring-the-client’s-desires” comments came to mind. It’ll do the job. It just won’t be the little Victorian hot house I hoped to pay homage to.
3. My husband bought materials the weekend prior. Its small size and minimal loads mean that 2x2 and 2x3 dimensional lumber will serve, allowing for slightly more interior space. The framing was straight forward, my husband called it “free-hand framing.” He just kept his level and tape measure at hand, cutting when he needed, nailing as he went. The roof (the shed roof – p’tooie!), though, he constructed as a panel down on the deck before fastening it in place on the uprights.
4. The opaque sections, located to shield the quail house from too much sun, are vertical cedar fence boards nailed up in board and batten style. When we’re ready to house quail I’ll place an inch or two of rigid insulation in the wall cavity and cover it with an interior layer of plywood.
5. The glazing is clear, corrugated polycarbonate panels from Home Depot. My husband cut it all to fit and screwed it to the structure. The structure is far from air tight, so we don’t think ventilation will be an issue, but we’ll monitor it over this first summer. We also placed a thermometer inside and one outside, so I can see how it does thermally. When winter comes, I may need to get in there with sealant and caulking materials to ensure it stays warm enough for the birds.

6. One panel of glazing my husband constructed to open as an awning window. We located this on the lower section of the fully glazed wall to get heavy pots in and out without coming indoors, as well as to let the quail out once we’ve constructed a small outdoor pen for them. Also, if it turns out that ventilation is needed, this window will help.
7. My husband located the horizontal indoor framing in such a way that wood shelves can be located at several different locations. Because the opaque quail-shade wall is on the south side, and will also shade the floor until the summer sun path is higher, I have starts on the shelves above the wall. My determinate tomatoes will grow on the shelves for much of the season but my indeterminate varieties will move to the floor when they are tall enough to vine.

So, there you have it… a prescription for a bad mood. And since it’s been built, just standing in my tiny greenhouse, or seeing the way it changes the color of light in the dining room on a sunny day, my own mood has been lifted after fretful nights with the kids or days of frustration. And I’m getting my own two hands dirty as I plant and send happy, juicy, red vibes to the little tomato sprouts. The quail, though, will be a whole ‘nuther story of it’s own, I’m sure.