In the event that I would need to survive an apocalypse, I have some concerns about my inability to keep vegetation alive. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve successfully killed the two most dummy-proof plants: the aloe plant and the cactus. Somewhere down the road, I see myself obsessing over the study of vegetable gardening, but for now, I just collect compost.
Now, I’ve never actually used compost. I just understand what qualifies a scrap of something as compost and dispose of it accordingly. The way I see it, once I know how to garden well, I’ll have a mighty heap of compost ready at my disposal. Do I know why I need compost yet? Nope. Not a clue. But I hear it’s good for soil and takes a while to do, so I’m getting a head start and hoping it’s not all for nothing.
So while I’m chopping and stirring and masterpiece-ing in the kitchen, I have an old coffee tin that collects my produce scraps and egg shells. As it gets a little fuller, I toss the contents outside into the compost bin. An efficient cycle.
Upon carrying out my compost duties, I discovered an unsettling corn cob that I’m fairly certain has been taken over by an alien life form. Where kernels of corn once sardined themselves into tiny rows, where incisors happily chewed line by line- like a well-loved typewriter, now we have tiny, little arms… or tentacles… or legs… or cilia slowly taking over. I mean… I don’t think Jesus is coming back as a corn cob, so obviously this is an alien trying not to be noticed.
Somebody call Will Smith. I feel frightened. *wide eyes suspiciously peering into the sky*
In the meantime, I hope that this alien specializes in compost.