Hoophouses & Body Parts
WARNING: This post is about deconstruction and going back into the church building. Go ahead and skip this if you're sick of the topic. I know I am. Which is why I'm writing. I’ve been avoiding it, my hoophouse. Being in there in the summer is akin to roasting yourself with wet heat. And for what? Nothing much at this point in the growing season as we wait for September to arrive next week. Most things are dead or dying and everything is overgrown under this 3,000 square foot bubble of plastic. It looks awful in there. What is funny now, and never makes me laugh, is that when I dreamed of this 3,000 sqrft space I KNEW it would be perfect. No pest pressure, no animal pressure…a controlled environment. “ Perfect .” After we left the church building I think we entered into a sort of spiritual hoophouse. Thinking we would grow what we deemed good and eliminate what we thought unnecessary. For a while it was like we had “jumped ship” so to say…got in our little rowboat and pulle...
