not the metaphorical crap we have to wade through to get actual info about the world, nor any of dear leader's stuff about privatizing social security; not the dominionist vision of a theocracy replacing the constitution, nor the looming environmental disasters; not the defunding of medicaid and community healthcare; not the undeclared, optional war; but the very real eight cubic yards of composted cow manure we bought and had delivered. we rototilled four 3' x 60' foot strips in the field of garden dreams that was a major reason we bought this property. there is about 6 inches of decent dirt on top of rocky, sandy alluvial former forest floor, so we decided to augment the garden rows. the pile in the picture is about 100 feet from the garden. after moving 5 or 6 wheelbarrow loads we realized that we would be done moving the shit by 2006 or maybe next tuesday when our backs gave out, so we got a nice dump cart that gets pulled behind our lawn tractor. every load of the cart equals maybe 4 wheelbarrow loads and the pirate gets to ride all that 100 feet instead of muscling the wheelbarrow. well, actually, Rexroth's Daughter did the first wheelbarrow loads while the pirate lazed around in the house reading blogs. the pile is just outside the fence behind the fir tree in the upper right of the picture below.
it goes here
the pile we're working on is amenable to a shovel. we need more than a million virtual shovels for that metaphoric pile, and we won't be done by 2006 or next tuesday.
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