Spent the day with my mom. We were supposed to cut back her rose bushes, but she had that job done by the time I made it to her yard. Instead, we cut back dead stuff in her little round perennial garden. At one time, the area where this garden is now was an above ground pool for my little brothers and sisters. Now, my little brothers and sisters are way taller than I am and almost all have their own families.
We cut everything back and hauled off all of the woody stuff to the burn pile. Then I got the bright idea to put the leaves in her fancy compost bin. Opened that sucker up and it was dry as a bone. I managed to pull out a little compost, but it needed brown, green and wet.
We loaded up the leaves and green stuff. When we added water it ran right through. Something was wrong. Mom asked, "Could a little cow poo help?" Well yes. My dad has a herd of about 5 cows. They live in a couple of acres behind my parents home. So here we go out into the pasture to collect some cow crap. Mom had a little garden scoop type thing. I had my gloves. I picked up way more poop with my gloves than she picked up with that scoop thingy.
We went back added to poo to the compost pile. Mixed it together added water, which did not run through, and I think she may have an active compost pile. Of course, when it gets cold next week and she wakes up to a steaming monster in her yard, she may not thank me very much.
When a gardener collects vintage postcards
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