I spent most of the weekend working on a little home improvement project. Since it involved renting a skid-loader I had the full involvement of the husband. I wanted to run the machinery but I never got to. Instead I had to do all the manual labor. I redid my manure pile/compost heap.
The problem with the old one was that it spread out over time. I started with one bin made of wooden pallets but it was too small and flimsy. In the summer when the weeds grow up we couldn’t get wheelbarrows all the way back so the pile had a tendency to spread out.
I also had a bunch of leftover hay from 2 years ago that I neeeded to get out of the barn to make way for the new stuff coming tomorrow. I decided to kill two birds with one stone and build new and improved composting bins.
This involved the husband driving the machine up to the hay in the barn. I would climb up the hay throw some bales down into the bucket, climb down, and walk out to the pile while he drove. Then I would unload and stack them artfully while he questioned my placement. I was dripping sweat and my hands are all blistered. I was ready to kill him. He informed me that he would have a heart attack if he tried to do my job. I told him that that was ok because I know how to drive the skid-loader so I could do his job too.
He did move around a lot of loose hay and fill the bins up with the manure again once had them built. He occasionally knocked down part of the bins with an errant swing of the bucket. At those times he was lucky to be surrounded by a metal cage.
The pipes are to allow air flow into the piles. Ideally there should be a tarp over the piles but I’m so sick of this project that I’m not worrying about that right now.