Monday, December 9, 2013
The True Story of the Greenhouse Door Christmas Wreath
Those of you who have heard me talk know the story of the Greenhouse Door Christmas Wreath. For those of you who have not heard me talk, here is the true story.
Back in 1992, it was evident that we could not continue to hybridize daylilies and live in a townhouse, so when we were still full of vim (there is another word that could go in here but it would probably get me kicked off this Robin) and vigor, we began looking for a flat piece of land that we could grow and hybridize our daylilies. In the spring of 1993 we found two acres of flat land with a 60s style ranch home on it that had not been updated since being originally built. In fact, it still had the old dark walnut panelling in the living room. Jean was not thrilled with the house so we continued looking. After about 6 months, we still had not found anything suitable so I said to Jean, What would it take to get you to move into that house"? She relied, "Gut it or burn it." Well, since burning it would be against the law, we gutted it clear down to the studs and did a complete remodel.
We moved on to "the farm" in October 1993. I immediately began looking for a greenhouse to use for hybridizing daylilies and one was purchased and construction began. I believe I remember that it was finished by November. Well, the Christmas of 1993 I went out to the greenhouse one morning and there was a Christmas wreath hung on the door. I asked, "What is this". The reply, "This is to remind you that this greenhouse is your Christmas present, birthday present, and anniversary present each year it appears on the door". The wreath has been there each year since.
To add insult to injury, this year I was told, "The Christmas wreath is on your workbench in the greenhouse, please hang it when you go out." Guess I won't be getting anything again this year. Maybe I will go out and buy something to give myself, maybe not.
Merry Christmas to all and best wishes for a Happy New Year
Life is very, very good.