Manuring and Mulching

I’ve heard that a gentleman is someone who can play the bagpipes and doesn’t. I have recently taken on a job making a window for someone in the valley and my thoughts were wandering along similar lines today when I finally decided to pull the pin and not do it. Little things were going wrong and the quality wasn’t going to be as good as I would like. For similar money they could get a joiner to do a better job and with far less stress for me. I noticed a few years ago that I don’t deal particularly well with stress. I can do it for a while, conjuring up illusions of competence and coping, but before long I’m twitching in the corner in need of a cup of tea and some Tim Tam therapy.


So I went home and walked around the horse paddock scooping up horse poo with Em and Noah. Shit shovelling I can do. We got so much done in the late afternoon sun, manuring and mulching the garden. I borrowed a book from Rob on composting and it’s the best book I’ve read all day. In it Tim Marshall talks of how to make leaf mould, the phosphorous content of bracken, the nitrogen content of different animal manures, the alkalinity of wood ash – my kind of book.


“I’m grateful that I holded those mushrooms that were in the straw.”
(Confused? Look)