This horse poo is three years old they call it manure and we can collect it for £2.50 a wheel barrel load from a huge heap on the allotment. Lucky me, today Nicky youngest grandson lent a hand. But don’t put it on your parsnip bed apparently some roots don’t like it!
Goodness knows how the poo we collected in a bucket walking behind the coal man’s horse ever did our gardens any good. But then just after the war we were grateful for anything.
The raised beds were half price in the garden center and will replace our own version, bits of wood from an old fence panel! But we like our redundant bit of beach hut one so that will stay, So far we’ve only fixed one of the new ones together.
I’m supposed to be stringing marionettes for forthcoming exhibitions getting eight little soldiers from ‘Oh What a Lovely War’ out of storage and sorting them out. So why am I messing about with horse poo and veg? I just don’t know, retirement is a strange affair, but then “tomorrow is another day” as my old granny used to say!
“If you don’t sing your own praises no one else will” was another of gran’s sayings, so this is an award winning blog for ‘a blog that brightens our
day’ if you click on the follow link on the right you won’t miss the next post.
But then she also warned “that pride comes before a fall” so I’d best shut up!