Chicken Poop

I woke up this morning one of my first thoughts---after I liberally imbibed sufficient amounts of caffeine—speaking of caffeine, have I mentioned my newest caffeinated obsession? Mad (the Hatter is implied) Breakfast Black Tea Blend. It is delicious.  I finally got around to stopping by Packwood’s newest “sipping” shop and procuring some. And then some more. I’m on my third package. It’s almost worth getting out of bed for. Although, if you could convince somebody to serve it to your bedside, I bet it would taste even better. Room service...caffeine...match made in heaven.

Where was this going? Oh, right—one of my first thoughts this morning was “chicken poop.” No, I’m not having one of those days—see above, delicious caffeine, etc.—I mean real, literal, actual, chicken poop. From chickens. If you’re a gardener, now is a good time to procure some.

First, get some chickens.

I’m kidding. You don’t have to have “homemade” chicken poop, there are plenty of “store-bought” options, from having a dump truck load delivered—which is my preference—to hauling it yourself; by the pickup full or the bag full.

This is the perfect time of year to apply chicken poo to your flowerbeds. You don’t have to worry if the poop in question has been properly aged, because it doesn’t matter. It’s not like anything—besides primroses and snowdrops-- is green and growing and in danger of being burned by fertilizer that is too “hot.” You can apply liberal amounts without fear. And—not to be indelicate—but the cold weather helps keep the “aroma” to a minimum. Applying chicken poop mid-May with open windows...well, let’s just say that the timing could be better.

Why chicken poop, you ask? 

Here is a list of my Top Five Reasons Why Chicken Poo is the Poo to Do:

1.       It’s all natural.

2.       Comes with free feathers. At least the bulk stuff does.

3.       It’s “cheep.”

4.       Things grow better.

5.       Elk hate the taste.

 I’ll often sprinkle a little poo around the garden during the growing season—just a pinch here and there, avoiding the two worst side effects: burned plants and offended neighbors. Offending the elk, on the other hand—well, that’s the point. I know I’d stop frequenting a salad bar that was sprinkled with poo.