In Demand

There's an old joke about the kid who was digging through a pile of "road apples," sure he'd find the pony in there somewhere.  Yesterday my milk customer sent over a couple of guys to haul away a load of goat manure for his compost pile.  The girls had finally eaten or beaten down the high, dry weeds in the pen so I would allow a truck to drive in there without danger of a hot exhaust pipe starting a fire.  It took the fellows quite awhile, with two of them digging, to fill the trailer and it barely put a dent in the mountain of poo.  Earle has planted a forest of bamboo (don't ask) and evidently bamboo takes a lot of fertilizer.  The guys returned after awhile and asked if they could take the rest of Mt. Poo.  "Why, yes, you may!"  Goat manure is what can be called a renewable resource and the girls are always making more.  I haul out at least one full bucket from the stalls every day, every single day.  Dig as they might, the young men did not find any new goats in there.

Camille came by in the afternoon, bringing some of her sugar-sweet tiny grapes and a basket of Sun Gold cherry tomatoes to share.  I mentioned that Earle had taken all the manure.  "Oh, no!  I was just waiting for the weeds to go down to ask if I could get some for composting."  Who knew there would be such a demand?  As I told her, if she could wait, the girls would readily fill her request.  She decided to bring up one of her carts to leave with me.  I can dump the daily contribution in there and save us both a lot of work.  The only problem I foresee is that I know full well that the goats will be in and out of the cart all the time.  They love to jump in and on everything taller than themselves in an endless game of "Queen of the Mountain."

Bessie and I spent a lot of time outdoors enjoying the breeze and cooler weather.  I'm starting to think about firewood for winter, something I wouldn't have dreamed of last week.  The blanket was back on the bed last night and a robe feels good this morning.  I'm okay with that.