My grandfather had a garden where he planted flower bushes, fruit trees, vegetables and herbs. Before I was born, he reared chickens and geese, but I suppose he gave those up with age. He made his own compost in a raised mound (it had worms crawling all over it, in a time before I developed a phobia for them) and collected urine from the bedroom potty (he, either intentionally or not, kept the dark yellow liquid in a Zappel bottle and put it out in the open) as fertiliser.
He was recycling before it became a fad, loving to work with ...
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