We live on sand in this part of Australia. A whole city built on sand dunes. Whenever we get rain it goes straight down, schlurrrrp. And being basically dirty beach sand there's nothing at all good in it for your plants and vegetables. So the Poo Man is a bit of a super hero here: "Send up the Poo signal, we need POO MAN" . . .
Dealing with sheep and cow manure for a living gives you an odd sense of humor I suspect (one that a five year old would appreciate). It seemed that every discussion I had with the Poo Man was fraught with double entendre and toilet jokes;
"Hello, I'd like to order some sheep manure please."
"Great, I can't deliver till next Thursday though as we're...ahem, fresh out of it at the moment (snicker)."
"Out of it? You have to wait for some more to be forthcoming then (snicker)?"
"That's right. We need to increase production, we've had a bit of a run on it (snicker)."
"Hello. Just letting you know that we are running a little behind (snortle). We usually have a regular drop off in your area on Thursday. Is Friday too late for you?"
"That's fine we had no urgent plans for it"
Anyway, thanks Poo Man. Thanks sheep's bottoms. Our garden loves you!
It will smell like freo at your place! I often think about adding manure to my garden but only do when Tim has a broken bag of it at work and brings it home then my car smells like freo!
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