Iona Winter

Who would’ve thought that collecting chook pooh would be added to my list of distractions from writing? Certainly not me – NEVER in a million years did I want to repeat ‘that which I grew up with’. That was until now.

With a surplus of the feathery beasts manure, what is one to do with it? Find a use for it, duh. Despite being in the country, I am relieved to have access to the good old internet (albeit slower) and my Granddad’s gardening books. On closer inspection I’ve found that these old books advocate for the use of some significant nasties like DDT. How did that affect Granddad’s health I wonder, given he lived to 93!

Without hesitation I’ve thoroughly researched chook pooh. AND found some clever ways to recycle it – without so much as a cringe or blocked nose in sight. I perhaps should not speak to soon, as this could all change (the nose blocking bit) once it’s reached it’s maturation! Or maybe that gets rid of the stink. Watch this space!

Last night I watched the Blood Moon eclipse from my porch (amazed at my new found ability to stand still and watch things slowly). Even more surprised that I was able to take such a photo! Oh the wonders of modern equipment in the country.

Yeah, so I watched the whole thing, surrounded by stars and nighttime bird calls. My friends in the city missed out. It was cloudy there. BUMMER.

I’m secretly smiling at my good fortune: an abundance of fresh air, minimal light and noise pollution, numerous birds (including the one who greets me each day, yet remains invisible) and my brewing manure broth.  The downside (of course there is one – I’m not that deluded) is that I have MANY MORE distractions from my writing.

There is a pressing urgency at the back of my head. A voice there repeats on a looped cycle, “8 weeks until thesis hand-in” and other useful things like “come on, pull finger, get onto it”. Occasionally I find myself getting snappy towards other people, rather than at myself. What’s that about? D.I.S.T.R.A.C.T.I.O.N.S…hmm, those buggers.

Let the final editing process commence in 3…2…1… Yeah, about that. I found another garden to dig. While doing so it appears I’ve popped a rib. It’s not getting any better. Nothing to do but rest. Yeah, about that…