Saturday September 6th 2014 Tim
Falling down stairs gives a mind a moment or two of
clarity. Possibly I should do it more often. And a good knock on the
head does wonders for the Compost Pile Naming Sentence. While in
recovery I realized Compost Pile Naming has nothing to do with a
sentence, never was supposed to be a sentence, never will be a sentence.
That sort of complicated approach to an aide memoire, just seems to piss
Compost Piles off and is obviously quite beyond my capacity.
for those who might be interested these are my names of our
Compost Piles. "The Wishing Well." "Compost Pile
Number Two." "Compost Pile Number Three."
"Iambe, The Goddess Formerly Known As Isis." "The Mean
Girl." "Foucault's Compost Pile." "The Scary Compost
Pile." I will now write these names in stone, and I
might even make little plaques, perhaps draw a diagram,
maybe invest in a couple of solar powered flashing neon