The couple who run the Greek/South African restaurant here had another present for me today but there was so much of it I was told that Joshua and I would need to collect it in a wheelbarrow.
Unfortunately, one of the two bags of chicken poo, which is mixed with straw so not pure poo, broke so I had to spade loose poo into the wheelbarrow which I then parked on the pavement while I had a coffee and Joshua enjoyed a fruit juice. No one seemed to mind even when I explained to one of my neighbours what exactly was in the wheelbarrow parked a few yards away.
Suitably refreshed, Joshua and I wandered back through the village and deposited the, er…deposits, equally in each of the compost heaps. Chicken poo mixes well with the compost, weeds and grass cuttings I am amassing and we will soon need to add another board at the front. I am already thinking about when we have our own chickens, and goats, as to where we shall open up a third, fourth and fifth pit.
Planning, planning for the world post retirement from investigative journalism. I cannot stop. Last night I lay in bed thinking how I could build a run for the chickens without blocking access to the area behind it. I paced the area today and came up with a cunning plan and marked it down as a spring 2022 project. I have also started thinking about keeping the odd pig but the Mrs does not seem so keen on that idea so, pro tem, it is just chickens, bees and goats on the agenda.
