Never let it be said that I’m hard to please.
One of our neighbors hadn’t mowed his lawn all summer. This was mildly annoying, but not generally a matter of great concern to me. If I’d had time, I would have gone over there with a sling blade and knocked it down, but I was busy and didn’t have time to fool with it, so the grass just got taller and taller.
While I was at a meeting today, someone went over there and mowed the grass, bagged it all up, and put it on the curb for the city to haul away. By the time I got home, Ron had helped himself to the bags — all seven of them — so I could use them as compost starter.
I couldn’t have been happier if I’d come home to find a dozen roses waiting for me. In fact, a dozen roses probably wouldn’t have thrilled me as much — their stems are too woody to be much good in a compost pile.
This is not the first time Ron has delighted me with the gift of compost fodder. My best Valentine’s Day ever was in 2006, when he bought me 10 feed sacks full of bunny poo and chicken litter.
I’m not sure what that says about us. I like to think of it as proof positive that my mama raised me right. 🙂