As fast as the mama could, she climbed down the steps into the garage, took off her indoor slippers, and slipped into her outdoor shoes. She steadily made her way across the garage to the side door and then out behind me. I bounded ahead to the black compost tumbler by the fence and waited patiently for her to walk the short distance. As she reached me, I opened the compost maker door. "Look at this!"
The mama peeked into the compost maker. I like to think I saw a tiny bit of surprise register on her stoical face. Ever the gardener, she said, "We'll plant them when they're stronger."
Over 20 squash buds had sprouted in the dark, rich compost. Cool, huh?
For the next few days, I'll be trotting outside first thing in the morning to open the compost maker door. That is, if the mama doesn't beat me to it.