I love my dog, but GODDAMMIT! She apparently smelled something yummy in the compost pile, you know the one I've spent two years cultivating and preparing and turning and cooking to make organic soil for my garden. The one I actually had the audacity to put in a moving van and bring from my old house to my new one when I moved. Yes, that compost pile.
It seems even after all that, the compost could not withstand the enthusiasm of a small dog. Granted, she's not THAT small, she's about 50 pounds of quivering Beagle. Something in that pile caught her attention so much so that she tore off the plastic fencing surrounding it and dove in head first. Needless to say, there is compost strewn across the yard, not to mention banana peels, egg shells and other fruits and vegetable pieces in random states of decay. I'm sure I could put it back into a pile if only I would get a rake and a bucket. Do you see this city girl reaching for the rake and bucket? I think not.
Okay, okay, I acknowledge that the aftermath is my responsibility. I could get out there and clean it up and really I probably should. But it's far enough away from the house that it doesn't matter at all and honestly, I don't want to see what's in there. I know there are LOTS of worms in it, and I shall lament their loss. I mean, I'm sure they survived, just went underground. I'm lamenting losing them from the compost because getting that many worms to show up for work takes a lot of time.
***SIGH***
Well, tomorrow is another day....
