We took a small leap of faith when we dreamt of home-grown leafy greens, hand-picked from our own garden in the middle of an Ontario winter.Actually, faith tempered with research, good advise, and hope.
One thing for me to quickly realize was I'd have to largely abandon control and embrace weather in ways I wasn't expecting.
I found myself loving the absolutely bone-chilling days when it was too cold to snow, for during those periods the sky was so clear that sunshine would melt the ice from the outside of the plastic and the frost from the inside, allowing the house to warm.And on the overcast days, when white drifts seemed to appear overnight, I was thankful for the insulative properties of snow and ice, effectively sealing any drafty spots. 
There were days so cold that birds didn't venture to the feeders; days I had to shovel a path to the hoop house door. Yet, once inside, I could remove my hat and gloves to tidy or harvest. All this with only the sun's natural warmth.
Of course, there ain't nothing natural about pickin' greens in the winter, though our approach certainly was; plant hardy varieties, enclose with plastic, blanket with garden cloth and let the sun do it's work.
Which isn't to say I was willing to let Winter have it's way with my leafy greens, and it wasn't without occasional struggles.
Like that morning in December when I woke to find the hoop house largely collapsed under snow-weight, all of our greens inside still unpicked. Surprisingly, after a few frantic minutes of me in my jammies desperately dislodging snow from the roof which was now below waist level, one by one the hoops sprung back into place. The end walls had remained intact and the interior was eerily warm, having snuggled under the snow all night. That day, Lisa dropped everything and constructed make-shift supports which will surely outlast our remaining winter storms.
What I've learned about our winter hoop-house garden is that I need only embrace what will happen naturally; slow growth and dormancy, some die-off, some consumption by whatever creatures found a way in (good for them!) and our increasingly volatile weather. If I let all this happen and remain diligent with my snow removal I'm confident we'll continue to harvest our spinach and herbs through to Spring.
There were days so cold that birds didn't venture to the feeders; days I had to shovel a path to the hoop house door. Yet, once inside, I could remove my hat and gloves to tidy or harvest. All this with only the sun's natural warmth.
Of course, there ain't nothing natural about pickin' greens in the winter, though our approach certainly was; plant hardy varieties, enclose with plastic, blanket with garden cloth and let the sun do it's work.Which isn't to say I was willing to let Winter have it's way with my leafy greens, and it wasn't without occasional struggles.
Like that morning in December when I woke to find the hoop house largely collapsed under snow-weight, all of our greens inside still unpicked. Surprisingly, after a few frantic minutes of me in my jammies desperately dislodging snow from the roof which was now below waist level, one by one the hoops sprung back into place. The end walls had remained intact and the interior was eerily warm, having snuggled under the snow all night. That day, Lisa dropped everything and constructed make-shift supports which will surely outlast our remaining winter storms.
What I've learned about our winter hoop-house garden is that I need only embrace what will happen naturally; slow growth and dormancy, some die-off, some consumption by whatever creatures found a way in (good for them!) and our increasingly volatile weather. If I let all this happen and remain diligent with my snow removal I'm confident we'll continue to harvest our spinach and herbs through to Spring.
