Work on the high tunnel greenhouse continued today, after several delays due to wind. Trying to wrangle large sheets of plastic in the spring winds of Kansas isn't anyone's idea of fun.

I still wonder how aforementioned plastic is going to hold up to aforementioned wind, but other farmers in our neighborhood have these very same structures and swear by them, so we shall see.

Next: planting heirloom tomatoes! Followed eventually by eating and canning heirloom tomatoes. Yesss!

And in this photo, you'll see a certain little blonde dog busily helping the Fieldstone crew by running circles around them as they wrestled plastic. He also helped the geese get in the water by chasing them to water's edge and the cat get in the barn by charging her as she emerged to stretch in the sunshine. CP is a very helpful dog.

Photos by Nancy Krause.

This structure might look a little unsightly to the casual observer, particularly in its current unfinished state. To me, it’s gorgeous because it represents ... TOMATOES!!! Lots and lots of tomatoes. 

My neighbor, Ken Krause, has studied the market, tested the waters and jumped in to the heirloom tomato business this spring. The hoop house (also known as a high-tunnel greenhouse, I believe) will give him a jump-start on the tomatoes’ life-cycle, free of disruption by Kansas’ wacky spring and early summer weather. Aforementioned weather can include, but is not limited to, snow, sleet, wind, frost, hot sun, and rain that dumps out of the sky all at once instead of pattering gently on the landscape.

It was the latter that has kept the hoop house in this state of construction for more than a week. Last Thursday the skies opened and, off and on for several hours, “rain bands” whooshed through. They seemed more like flood bands because they absolutely drenched the landscape, then drenched it again and again.

I should have taken some photos the next day but I would have had to wear hip waders.  The row boat, which is usually moored on a little dock on the north side of the big pond, ended up in the second row of trees in the orchard – on the south side of the pond. 

What this meant for the hoop house project was essentially a standstill because the ground was so soaked that even a ladder would sink into the muck – and don’t even think about what the cherry-picker would do in all that mud and mire. 

The weather’s given us a little break this week, however, and the guys are supposed to be back today to finish putting the plastic over the high tunnel’s ribs. Good thing – a couple hundred little baby tomato plants arrived yesterday and they won’t live forever on top of Nancy’s big freezer.

It's all fun and games out here where I live, until the propane runs out. And a general rule of the universe is that propane doesn't run out on balmy days. It waits patiently until the coldest days of the year, then pffffffttttt, it's gone.

I hear you out there saying, "Well, duh. It runs out because you use it on cold days." But I know these propane tanks are awash in bad intentions, lurking and biding their time for the perfect opportunity to demonstrate their importance in our lives. 

My propane tank, for example, found its window of opportunity on Saturday, when the daytime temps hit the mid-teens and we don't even want to talk about the night time. I had no idea the tank was even low. Having had it topped off in early January, I figured I was set until next fall.

Ha! Wrong-o, Chuck-o. I just happened to check it when I took the dogs out for our speed walk (when the thermometer goes below, say, 25, I find my daily walks become daily zips).  Imagine my shock when the gauge hovered at 3 percent full rather than the 30 or so I was anticipating. This was an emergency. My neighbors have told me what happens when the propane tank gets completely empty and ... well, I really have no idea what they said, but I know it's very bad and the worst part of it is that it ticks off the propane guy. One thing you never want to do is tick off the propane guy.

So I lived under my comforter for the weekend, assisted by two space heaters that did just fine until I took a shower and decided to dry my hair and blew the circuit. Note to self: do not plug in two space heaters and hair dryer in same vicinity. Spread the joy.

One can live fairly comfortably under a comforter, I've discovered, if one has two dogs and a cat to drape over the oneself. Getting them to stay still and on the bed is the challenge, of course, but I think my guys were also feeling the weather a bit and were fairly happy to hunker. I was just glad the dogs were at a relatively clean phase of their lives, since a lot of mud and mess come and go on their coats on a consistent basis.

At any rate, I called the propane guy first thing Monday morning. My neighbors love me enough to give me his secret, special cell phone number. And, I have to say, I came this close to ticking off the propane guy. But something in the sheer sniveling wretchedness of my delivery defrosted his chilly heart and he agreed to come out that afternoon and fill 'er up. My bank account, of course, depleted in direct proportion, but at least I'm set until next fall.

If we want a philosophical takeaway from this experience, I also think it's an important education to be faced unequivocally with one's energy consumption. I thought I had been fairly conservative in my energy use, but plainly, I have another think coming.

Or maybe a leak.