Sunday, March 28, 2010
OK, let's talk poop.
I'm always amazed at the volume of manure awaiting me, both in the morning and again in the evening. How can three little donkeys manufacture so much?
I'd like to introduce you to what I used to call the Manure Mountain. Nowadays I think it more resembles a berm, so will need to rethink it's title. Rick and I will be spending a recreational weekend in the near future by spreading it over the vacant acre. Good times... (although friend Dorothy received some over the winter to spread in her garden, testing the fertilizer factor -- better check with her before we head for the shovels)
A friend-of-a-friend says her donks conducted their own version of The Great Escape by pooping in the same place day after day, fashioning a manure mountain and scampering over the fence to freedom. Luigi, Francesca and Gabriella prefer to spread their's out, apparently believing I like to play a game of hide and seek when cleaning up.