Gardener's warning

I don't really feel I deserve the title 'gardener' yet. I may be being reasonably successful at the moment, I know I am far from versed in the nuances and skills a true gardener has.

All true gardeners know not to compost weeds - especially roots of the likes of ground elder, dandelion, thistle et al, but there is, I read somewhere but cant remember where (maybe I dreamt it?) a way round this. If you are collecting a lot of weeds you can but them in water and leave them for a fortnight. You then have a 'tea' which can be used to water and feed your plants, and a semi decomposed sludge that can be safely added to your compost heap.

Highland Council recently furbished us with a spare 'recycling bin' - a wheelie bin of epic proportions and I decided to put this fermentation of weeds to the test. Yesterday I opened that wheelie bin, it having been sat stewing for nigh on three weeks. The liquor was decanted off to water the veg and the sludge hauled off to compost.

And here is the warning. Do not be fooled by words such as 'tea' and 'liquor' nor imagine anything so delicate as 'decanted'. For this tea has a stench, the stench of shite. And unwholesome shite at that - not the floral aroma of any herbivore stool but the most nose punchingly acrid shit smell of putrid shite. In other words it's quite unpleasant. To me at least. Horseflies however, find the stench most enticing and I quickly found myself the centre of a huge horsefly fest - they came from miles around to sample the delights of my 'tea' - which they especially enjoyed when accompanied by lumps of Simon flesh.

If the smell is anything to go by I expect a bumper crop of potatoes, or perhaps a bed of dead potatoes, time will tell. And the weeds were well rotted so it felt safe to put them on the compost heap.

I returned to the cottage to cook our evening meal. Wash hands. Umm - that smell. Scrub hands. Nope - I can still smell it. Shower - washing your hair is a most effective way of cleaning your hands. Nope. Later I went to bed, having washed dishes, and washed hands a few more times. Eau de shite still pervaded. Even this morning I'm still getting gentle wafts of the stuff.

Because my veg are worth it.