Deep Breath/Compost

It's time I crawled out from under my blanket and faced the world again. I feel like Sisyphus from the Ancient Greek Myths ~ faced everyday by a punishment so demoralising, painful and unrewarding; bound to go on for eternity. Only thing is I didn't do anything wrong, so why am I, too, cursed? This Depression is a cancer of the soul and feels terminal.

Oh, deep breath....

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A welcome gift awaited us on Saturday, by our Plot ~ Old pallets! Oh what joy some old bits of wood can bring! Andrew was so excited at the prospect of making his much talked about compost heap that he started right away - Bill had to wait a little for his thank you; he had promised us some pallets and as always, he didn't let us down.



I decided to get on with something else while Andrew built this...


...a man's compost heap is his castle, or some such thing. Look at the pride, he (quite understandably) couldn't take his eyes of it and once it was full of the stinkiest and therefore most wonderful cow manure I too couldn't help but be very proud too. It has it's little blue blanket over the poo and another pallet on top and that structure and it's contents are going nowhere fast. We kept the little sign Andrew had made too - hands off everyone, this sh*t is ours!!!!

So we now have a manure heap and the trinity of compost bins - all is well at the Lottie. In a few months time we will have soil conditioner to die for (though it's pretty darn good this season, but things can only get better).