Queen of the Compost

Hands up out there if you like compost. It amazes me that a pile of horse and alpaca poop, shavings and grass clippings becomes this precious addition to the land.

Making the compost is one of our favorite tasks on the ranch. Of course, we're not really making it, just helping it along. About every three weeks, we turn the piles, with Allan on the tractor and me manning the hose. We add water to keep the process going, and we also regularly measure the temperatures of the piles. Warm means the pile is working, cool means it's either taking a vacation or is ready to use. If its the latter, we load it into the spreader and head out to the pastures.

The first couple of piles are the most active, usually hot and steaming in the morning chill. When the tractor breaks into the pile, that steam roils up, surrounding us with the scent of a healthy organic reaction at work. I know there are many organic reactions that do not smell pleasant, and some folks might not think my assessment of our compost pile is quite accurate. But we happen to like the smell of earthy things and figure the animal's by-products are better off working in a far corner of the property than cluttering up their pens and pastures.

I'm wondering about something though. If I'm the Queen of the Compost, does that make my sons Princes of Poop?