Hadrian’s Wall

Now when you live out in the hinterlands, you must always be fortifying your most exposed parts of your defenses.

With me, its the far back of my property. If the Zombies are coming, that’s where they’ll come from. I mean, they’d never get past the gnomes, fairies, dragons and Jack the Spruce out front.

Now I’ve mentioned many times that the soil here is pretty shitty. Concrete when its cold, mucky when it rains, and the only thing you can grow here is the wild grass that seems to be from outer space and needs no nutrients whatsoever to thrive.

So, ever since I’ve had large asses with large asses to shit out of, I have been collecting the mule muffins and dumping them in piles along the back of my property. There it sits in a long stretch breaking own into high quality manure throughout the seasons.

On occassion, someone will take up my standing offer to come by and collect some of this magical manure and use it for their gardens. I have heard anecdotal evidence of its wondrous effects on the vegetation that takes root in it. There is even reports of fairy sightings. Indeed, Claire and Honey like to stroll along the top of the mound and nibble the strange green vegetation that appears there.

I’ve also transplanted some of it along the front fence line and where there was once dead ground there is now rich soil that supports lustrious wild grass that the rabbits like to hide in.

But this all requires a lot of work on my part. It seems that Claire and Honey (and Mr. Rogers in his day), refuse to shit where I tell them too. As a matter of fact, if I try to tell them where I want it, it usually arrives right outside my office window.

So, I must live with wherever it lands, and then once a week, I go around with my shovels and wheelbarrow and collect it.

In the spring through fall, it’s not too bad, other than the smell, but then you tend to go noseblind out of necessity.

But in the winter, it gets tough. The shit freezes into the permafrost and needs to be pried loose before it can be scooped up. And if you are not careful, a pried pile of shit can release like shrapnel, with frozen mule muffins flying in all directions. Must keep your mouth sealed at all times or you can literally find yourself full of shit. And always close your eyes.

Then you must push the heavy wheelbarrow through the ice and snow. Not fun.

So, what takes me two hours during the warmer months takes four in the heart of winter.

I know the high quality food that goes into my movable shit makers, so I know the quality that comes out.

Here is a visual collage of yesterday’s three barrows of shit shifting.

My colleagues in the Old Fuckers Club have considered my situation and believe I should monetize this magic manure by selling it off in one muffin packages. The muffins could be sold to anyone who would like to draw magical creatures to their respective gardens or property. The muffins could be buried in a perfect spot at the new location, even in apartment flower pots or boxes, and then the fae will appear in the area. I mean, it works for me, but I’m not sure I should be sending the fae out to God knows where to hang with God knows who. I’ll have to give it a think.

In the meantime, I am slowly working my way towards the house, expanding Hadrian’s Wall so that it advances as a three foot layer of fine manure over the really shitty soil.

And if the Zombies ever do arrive, they will become mired in the shit, which will make it pretty easy to take them out with a long gun from my deck. A win-win!

Well, enough of this shit (which is a perfect topic for any Monday).

I have a kitty to cuddle, rounds to make and some torture to engage in.

But you fine, five readers go tell Monday to sod-off. Don’t ever let this day beat you.

And make today another great one.