Compost Stu's blog


Stu's View from the Loo

Mon, 08/13/2012 - 13:10 — Compost Stu

The sound of rushing water cascading down through bluestone boulders fills my ears. Frogs have become raucous, roistering in their efforts to out croak each other and romp riotously through the night. It’s an orgy out there, water brings life, and life starts with sex. I’ve created numerous little shallow frog ponds on my place, in order to surround myself with sex and life. From little frogs big things grow. They are the engine room of my re-generating ecology. Since I have no cows and long over grown pasture, the toads (that can’t jump high) have not really established themselves here.



Stu's View from the Loo

Mon, 01/16/2012 - 09:32 — Compost Stu

The sun rises over the sandstone ridge line that delineates Glenworth Valley near Peates Ridge. Mist starts burning off and the tent littered valley floor reveals below. The festival is in its second day now and there are around12,000 people packed onto flat and sometimes soggy ground by a small tidal creek that dissects the site. I’ve walked a hundred meters or so up toward the northern ridge to dig my loo hole and find my view. About halfway through proceedings, I hear a sound behind me. Shit! I think I’ve been busted by some acid tripping sunrise seeking hippie kid.



Stu's View from the Loo

Mon, 01/16/2012 - 09:31 — Compost Stu

Apparently there is some confusion as to whether I am actually sitting on my loo, lap top on bared thighs, tapping out these prose on poo, or am I comfortably in front of my PC with an empty bowel and squeeze free scowl. Good. I’m glad, it is always best left to the imagination don’t you think? All I can say is these wooden seats beat the plastic ones hands down in this sweltering heat. When did we start sitting on sweaty plastic anyway? My first memories of going to the loo always involved running my fingernails along the aged timber bench seat that spanned the width of the outhouse.



Stu's View from the Loo

Mon, 01/16/2012 - 09:29 — Compost Stu

From where I’m sitting I can see the changes that have taken place here over the last 14 years. I bought my block at Barkers Vale as a clean slate, a stipulation from my financiers that has resulted in years of hard work and the satisfaction of transforming a degraded cow paddock into a model of sustainable farming and lifestyle. The throne I now sit upon was the first structure, a veritable icon that stuck out like the proverbial dogs balls when it arose from the red earth. I called it Mums throne, because it was she who threatened never to visit if all I had was hole in the ground.



Stus view from the Loo

Mon, 10/17/2011 - 13:34 — Compost Stu

The wind is howling, tree tops brushing the sky like great brooms sweeping the air clean. When I was young someone told me the trees pushed the air around. Much later, I took a lot of convincing otherwise. I can feel the air swirling inside the compost toilet chamber too, the whirly on the flu is doing a zillion miles an hour. The little aerobic microbes down there will be making the most of it, no doubt they do aerobics while they munch their way through their favourite fare.


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