Manure-vering*

With the heat wave still on full blast, we gathered for a suitably idyllic and relaxing evening of … pitchforks, sweat and compost.

This week it was the turn of our other favourite City Farm – Spitalfields – to receive the brute strength and muscle of a fleet of 20+ GG runners. And for a change, there was some compost that needed moving. Or “Manure-vering” to steal Bryon’s excellent dad pun.

Led by Pete we all took the 2k there at a pleasant trot through busy Bethnal Green and Weavers Fields and were greeted at the farm gates by Esther and rows of pitchforks and wheelbarrows. One large heap previously seen here in the cold dark winter needed moving to bays on the other side of the farm to break down and do its compost thing.

"We’re getting good at this compost moving malarkey"

We’re getting good at this compost moving malarkey and have cleverly identified wheelbarrows as our bottleneck downfall. So runners were promptly placed in and on the heap to shovel it out ready for the wheelbarrows to line up and be filled up. Worryingly, a Monday evening for me is no longer feels complete unless I find myself knee deep in compost by 7.30pm.

"we moved a the better half of the heap - defiant in the face of flat-tired wheelbarrows and exotically hot evening sunshine"

With Ivo shouting words of encouragement and admonishment (a few runners were distracted by the farm’s new cow) we moved a the better half of the heap - defiant in the face of flat-tired wheelbarrows and exotically hot evening sunshine

"Upper bodies worked out, and trainers covered in muck, we set off back in three waves (straight, slightly longer, or long AND fast"

Upper bodies worked out, and trainers covered in muck, we set off back in three waves (straight, slightly longer, or long AND fast) back to the Arch Gallery where we stretched out and cooled down. I bumped in to my upstairs neighbours as I got back home. They claim not to notice the smell of compost emanating off the trainers that I now have to leave outside my flat door every Monday evening. I think we all know they’re just being polite.

"They claim not to notice the smell of compost emanating off the trainers"