Another move, another compost

After months of packing, moving and unpacking we have landed in the deep south confronted by a cold front which has left everyone in the house with a hacking cough.

We left our beautiful homemade dirt spread in the flower beds to be taken advantage of by the next owner. I remembered when we refused to leave it all behind in Norfolk, Virginia and I loaded down my trunk with double garbage bags full of rich compost. I made that stuff, I wasn’t going to just leave it. It cost me quite a bit in gas though so… This time, I needed the room in the car.

Unable to locate the clasps for the compost bin—

“Well, where are they?”–him
“Hell if I know.”–me
“I thought you said the movers didn’t pack them. That you brought them down.” –him
“I did.” –me
“Well, where are they then?”–him
“Hell if I know.”–me

I can’t find anything in this house. I swear we’ll be unpacking for a year. Every day I make very little headway though I feel I’m working tirelessly for hours.

Well, mostly because of this little creature–

“Do you have to go to the potty?”–me
“No, gas-i-poo.”–her
“It’s just gas?” –me
“Yes.”–her
“Yeah, that means we’re going to the potty,” I say as I sweep her up, legs and arms flailing, back arched. She didn’t want to be interrupted from play. She sits on the potty and lo and behold—“Mama hears pee pee,” I say.
She just looks at me and blinks.

There’s just one thing after another and I roam around the house trying to figure out what I was doing and where I put my phone. The compost clasps….who knows? SO…we’ve had to make a temporary compost out of a large planting pot.

It’s working swimmingly.

 

Now what do you think about that?

Yeah!

 

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