Atlas Insider
Something’s Gotta Grow (Entry II: Hand Me My Robe)
Allow me to set the scene…
It’s the first weekend of November. The Nashville Severe Weather guys are predicting frigid temps. You’ve been up since the wee hours, frantically scrolling the rabbit hole of Reddit to see if conditions in your greenhouse could withstand just one night of a cold blast.
You have nothing prepared! Your sister is in town! Your three nephews are sound asleep on the rapidly deflating air mattress! You beg, “MOTHER NATURE SPARE ME! It’s my first greenhouse! Just give me one day to get my sh*t together!”
When the sun begins to rise, you rise with it, grab your heavyweight terrycloth robe* and hastily slip your feet into the fur-lined slippers you stole from your mother, Sheila, whose idea it was to send this damn greenhouse in the first place.
Fearing the worst, you crack open the greenhouse door. Your plants are somehow still green, but boy is it frigid. You grab the one plant you can’t bear to lose (It’s the Hoya your therapist gave you years ago—did we talk about plants that much?) and slink back into the house with bed-head that has taken the shape of a stressed bee hive.
Let the greenhouse wintering begin!
Hand Me My Robe
The first task when prepping your greenhouse for cold weather is to accumulate MASS in order to contain heat.
What does this mean for those of us notoriously unprepared for a crisis situation? We pull up the hefty sleeves of our terrycloth robes, ready our paws, and prepare to scrounge. If you are picturing the raccoon, one of the most notorious foragers of our time, clocking in for the night shift at her town’s freshest dumpster, you’ve met me in the right place.
After sending my human-in-crime Chris to the attic to forage, he discovered the perfect vessel for a temporary water tank to act as a heat source plus a spare roll of bubble wrap to seal up any air flow.
Quick note: Bubble wrap is great for retaining heat—who knew? Definitely not me.
Meanwhile, I was burrowing nose first into baskets, bins, corners, and closets of our house. Chris (we like to call him Cider Chris) has been crafting apple cider at his family’s farm in Sparta, TN, ever since I’ve known him.
With delicious cider comes a hefty supply of glass bottles that are recycled back to the farm once empty, about a dozen of which I confiscated (unbeknownst to him), filled with hot water, and placed in the greenhouse for more mass.
With everything taped, bubble wrapped, and cozied, we managed to keep a steady heat until we were right back into the 70s the following week—big nod to Nashville weather for keeping us on our toes (and me, frantic in the backyard, in my robe).
A month later, we are seemingly into true winter. With a space heater humming in the greenhouse (likely skyrocketing our electric bill), I can report that we still have a single jalapeño, a sleepy rose bush waiting to be planted in the spring, and a handful of other plants that, aside from a few frozen leaves, have managed to settle in to their humble—and quite balmy!—abode.
Unfortunately my second beloved Hoya (let’s call her Nancy) tossed her bubble wrap shawl aside and took the first train out (the train being me, lugging all 40 pounds of her, cloaked in robe) to our warm-weather retreat: a pet-friendly cozy nook located in the entryway of our house, complete with lush amenities and acceptable temperatures.
Since the first frost frenzy, the rest of my plant worries have mildly subsided. After all…it’s just me, a Greenhouse Kinda Gal, out here doing my best.
Big thanks to those who offered up sage advice from Entry 1. I’d be in the weeds without you!
Until next thyme,
Hannah
PS: I’m gardening to the tune of: “We’ve Only Just Begun” by The Carpenters
- A fashionable note: The Technicolor Terrycloth Robe was a gift from Ann and Kay during the darker days of Covid, while we were working out of our homes and still learning the mute button on Zoom. Weighing what I predict is an entire 5 pounds dry, this thing is practically an all-weather cloak, and will be making its appearance throughout the Greenhouse Journey.
Hannah, I don’t know the size of your space heater but the Internet told me that my modern (bought last year) room-size one just cost about 12-14 CENTS per hour. You might check with your model and your electric company and hopefully be presently surprised.
That is the perfect robe for plant rescuers! Well done, Hannah!
I’m a plant lover too and would have been out there with you in the greenhouse trying to save the plants! Great robe, and I hope your plants made it!
So happy to receive an update! I LOVE that robe! Your tenderness towards your plants is so fun to read! You are a modern day plantswoman!
Hi Hannah, I empathize with your plight to save plants from the below below freeze we had. I had bought a couple of those frost blankets for some of my potted plants I was able to group together. But I had a couple of taller pots too heavy to move. Solution: bought those triple layer tall paper bags normally used for yard waste/leaves. They worked great!
Hope your plants have survived our subsequent freezes.
Here in Maryland, I use my 6 foot square greenhouse for seed starting, mostly several varieties of tomatoes and peppers. I love trying different veggies, especially heirlooms and unusual types. Fish peppers are probably my favorite; even the plant is beautiful, with variegated leaves, and the peppers themselves go through several color stages complete with stripes.
I also use my greenhouse for curing onions and garlic. It sits on my deck, cozied up next to the house. (We live in a townhouse, there’s no yard.) It’s also convenient for kitchen herbs and greens. Spinach and kale will last all winter in it, usually. I’ve never used a heater in it.
Also: yay for the Carpenters! I’m named for Karen Carpenter. Her death was tragic but brought mental illness and eating disorders into public awareness, which was and still is greatly needed.
Here in Minnesota I have no greenhouse, but wish i did. Love your plant posts.
Thank you for a funny and very relatable post! Here on the Gulf Coast, I usually have my own last minute mad scrambles before a freeze to get the tender container plants covered or moved into the garage. Your robe is definitely more fashionable than the odd assortment of warmer clothing I throw on to move plants!
How to buy that bathrobe?
I’m just outside of Philly, so I won’t be using my cheapy Aldi greenhouse for a bit, but when I do, I use old political yard signs on the bottom (it sits on a deck) and gallon milk jugs filled with water for heat mass. In late February through March, that’s enough for kale, chard, spinach, and lettuce starts. Once they go into the ground in late March, flower starts and then veggies move out from my indoor lights/shelves.
Hilarious Hannah! I enjoyed every sec of reading your post, and I love your paintings too.