notes from
the MUCK . . .

How does your garden grow? With muck, muck and more muck! I spent much of today finishing the final muck box and then shifting muck from one box to the next. The first box, which the Big Lad is enthusiastically pointing out, has been rotting down for two years now and once we’d removed the top quarter of unrotted material, we found we’d hit the pay dirt.

Thursday, April 13, 2006


Some people have it bad. A woman went into severe depression after her father died and refused to leave her sofa. She died of a heart attack age 39. Things were so bad she would not leave the comfy seat to go to the loo, her flesh rotted, and she grew facial hair. Her life was spent thusly:

"...watching US wrestling videos and daytime TV soaps while wolfing down eggs on toast brought by her mother".

Hmmmm, maybe not so bad. But come on, you gotta get up to go to the toilet??

And what of her family you may ask? What of them indeed.

Apparently, they were too embarrassed by the situation to do something. When she was wheeled out by paramedics, her mother was heard to say "what will the neighbours think???".
Neither her son or mother made any attempt to help the woman. Maybe I'm being harsh, the mother lost her husband after all. But but but wait, it gets worse, the mother opened her heat to a nurse after hearing that her child had died,

"What a year it's been. I've broken my wrist, the rabbit has died and now this."

Now, you may know that the muck, and this author especially, are not insensitive to the passing of a scaled, feathered, or fluffy beast. I'm also aware that the article may well have failed to disclose the full story.

But jesus. How bad can a broken wrist be, or how close can you get to a rabbit?

Coming soon; Jeff's commemorative post, and one for Niki too, cause she beat the bitch.

Comfy. TOO comfy????