Shit happens
Dec 6th, 2007 by Peter
My wife is already brilliant with plants, but my dad gave her yet another secret weapon: Concentrated cow shit in pill form.
You put a pill or two in the soil and wait for the result. The first time C used them, she proved how she never listens to what I say, and decided that 5 pills a pot was what the doctor ordered. One would think that it would kill all our potted plants, but it worked the complete opposite. Almost like the time Homer Simpson grew Tomacco with the aid of plutonium.
The pills reek like real cow leftovers and opening the jar, that C keeps them in, make a whole room smell funky. A few days ago, C decided it was time to redo the deed, and I caught her in the working process.
The scarf is not a joke! And it’s mine of course. C would never dirty up one of her own. Sigh.
She looks like a good old fasion ganster with that scarf. And I sure hope those chopsticks are dedicated cow leftover pill inserting chopsticks?!
“Thanks” for making me think about the perhaps-dedicated-chopsticks Claus. Didn’t get it much thought before you mentioned it. :)