“Our Greenhouse Downfall!

Last night's ice tore through the cover

             The experiment with our hot tub conversion to greenhouse ended this morning. Since we built the covering, it’s withstood rain and several days with high winds. After one storm, we added a layer of plastic and tightened down the lid. When temperatures outside dropped below freezing, the inside steadily remained at least ten degrees warmer. All of the plants thrived.

            Freezing rain and ice coated the plastic shell sometime last night or early this morning. We woke up to find the structure collapsed with near freezing water drowning the plants. David began hauling the larger pots out and into the house while I followed with the ferns, spider plants and Pothos. The living room and family room now serve as a temporary home until this weather system passes. The first dry and sunny day will find us rebuilding.

Icy water filled the tub

Temperature just above freezing

Koi watching us work

          

Optimistic for the aloes's health

Living room overflows

Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman 

“Our Greenhouse Experiment”

 

Hot tub haven

            Back in November, I came up with the idea of taking our old, defunct hot tub and converting it into a “greenhouse” to weather some of our larger, cold sensitive plants. A little brainstorming possibilities, a run through Home Depot for supplies, and we created a cradle for our aloes and ferns.

            Checking the interior temperatures daily shows a successful experiment. The tub’s warmth, always at least ten degrees above the outside temperature, has allowed us to feel pretty confident that the plants will survive this winter safely.

               Until this yesterday.

            Outside, the cold air dipped to a little below freezing. The thermometer read in the forties. That’s probably the lowest our Aloe Vera will tolerate. The ferns, too, may survive this freezing dip if it doesn’t last too long. By this afternoon, the highs should top out in the low fifties, meaning our “greenhouse” will climb into the sixties. Once our daily highs hit the sixties again, we’ll do a visual check to make certain everything survived this snap.

Hot tub haven!

Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman  

 

“In Between Gardens”

 

 

            In San Antonio, winter blows into the area the end of October and teases the trees with forcefully cold winds. It dusts grass with frost, and may sprinkle snow, like powdered sugar, over bushes and parked cars. Sometimes rain visits the area when the temperatures drop, treating us to fingers of ice or sleet. And we hit the pause buttons on our lives. We stay home, hunker down, and wait out the freeze—which means a twenty-four hour stop in our routines. Bad weather pushes her way out as quickly as she invites herself in.

 

            Our gardens and lawns already show signs of spring. Dandelions bob their heads in the soft midday breeze. Crabgrass crawls across the yard, playing with sleepy Bermuda. Dead-looking Plumbago sprouts up from around the roots of last year’s plants while Mountain Laurel fills the air with purple Kool aide scents. Live Oak leaves turn dusty and brown before they fall to the ground in defeat.
 

            I wait and watch. Impatient to see who won against winter. Will the ferns fight back and uncurl their delicate fingers soon? Will the clover return with its delicate pink blossoms? As I clear away the papery pulp of my Wandering Jew, I know by May this hardy groundcover will have returned to full glory.  

            My gardens and yards transform daily. Sometimes I believe I can hear the growth, if I listen carefully. So right now, the status remains in flux—my gardens poised between death and life.

Copyright 2014 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman