I have been suffering from a headache and general malaise for the past couple of days, probably due to not enough good sleep lately, too much work stress, not enough exercise, and not drinking enough water. (Please don't tell the Conservatives about the water thing. They will blow a gasket.) Then again, go ahead and tell them. Let 'em blow ALL their stupid gaskets. We'd be better off for it.
So one of the best cures I have for many of the above problems (except the Conservatives. That is a problem that is not at all within my power to solve) is to go work in my garden. And one of my favorite things to do is to go do the hard, dirty labor of compost bin maintenance -- or mothering, as I like to say.
I have a wee problem with one of my compost bins: It's been taken over by a colony of bees. And they are awfully protective of the area. I'm not exactly sure what to do about this. So far they have flown at me, around me, and one even flew in my ear. (And if you don't think THAT scared me, then you have an unrealistically high opinion of my courage.)
Amazingly, none of them have stung me. Unfortunately, one HAS stung Mr. Jefferies. And the noise they are making at me is getting a bit louder and more aggressive. I am not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I'm not stupid. I'm getting the distinct impression that they are trying to tell me, "Woman, we have tolerated your bullshit digging and lid-lifting and walking-around and banging noises so far, but it's time to GET THE FUCK OUT OF OUR TERRITORY. OR ELSE."
So anyway, today I very gingerly worked in and around the other two bins (the fourth one has unfortunately fallen apart). I discovered that one was too terribly wet and anaerobic and smelly.
YAY! MY FAVORITE THING!
(I mean it.)
(Yes, I might be a little bit not right in the head.)
I get to pull out the wet, foul-smelling gross stuff, and get all sweaty and muddy and aerate it and relayer it with some dry carboneceous materials -- today it was big old cardboard boxes (one that a refrigerator came in -- because I don't fool around) that I shredded by hand -- and a little bit of soil. And I pulled up a few half-dead tomato plants and bean plants and weeds, and added them to the mix, too.
And while I was mothering the compost, I also happened to harvest the main players for tonight's dinner:
Of course, my steno-hands and -forearms are now killing me, because I'm very smart like that.
Also, the headache and body aches are not really that much better, but maybe they will get better in a little while -- maybe after I eat those wonderful things for dinner, even.