At last! A pile of manure has appeared in my yard!
Forget the diamond rings and fur coats, mister - a load of manure and I'm a happy camper!
It's only taken about two years, but someone finally heard my plea (okay, my grousing) and came through for me.
I promptly filled the wheelbarrow with load after load and spread it on five of the beds I have dug and weeded. There it will rest for the winter, allowing the critters in the soil to do their thing before the ground freezes, and again after it thaws in the spring. By late May, these beds should be ready for planting. And hopefully this year, with the addition of manure, greensand, rock phosphate, and even some wood ashes from my woodstove, I will have conquered the sour smell that wafts from the soil in these particular beds.
Five down; thirteen...nope, make that fifteen...to go. Plus the new plot to prepare next spring.
All we can do now is hope that there are no seeds in this manure that will sprout next year. Wishful thinking? Probably, but hope spring eternal.
2 comments:
Isn't it amazing how gardening helps redefine the important things in life? It turns out they're all the simplest things. Congrats on your big steaming pile o' poo. :)
Hope it's not "horse"... I used to get horse on anniversary and Valentine's every year, by the truckload. Along came bindweed... oh boy!
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