Crabgae eau de toilette

Holy Mother of Fruit, my son stinks.

This past Christmas one of our fabulous friends bought us this composting bucket that you feed your household compost plus a few scoops of this stuff called Bokashi (you know, another alternative lifestyle experiment with wheat bran inoculated with a special mixture of effective microbes). The term “Bokashi” is Japanese for “fermented organic matter” and it creates this great compost that is ODOR FREE.

As I had a few garbage bags full of seaweed I thought I would partner the seaweed with my new compost bucket and make some kelp juice. Notice the spigot at the bottom of my compost bucket — hello super green juice full of easily accessible micro-nutrients.

I jammed that bucket full of seaweed and accompanying crabs and earwigs and turned that lid on tight. I was not sure what would happen with the fermentation as I had forgotten to sprinkle the Bokashi throughout the seaweed.

Three weeks later I opened the bucket and things had liquified….somewhat. Imagine a hot crab smoothie in a bull-kelp cup with some crunched ear-wigs smashed bloody-Caesar style along the rim — fermenting in the sun. That was it.

I know enough that the precious seaweed vomit would need to be diluted — probably 10:1. I poured the thick yellowish green goo into a bucket and ran inside for the rubbermaid of warm soapy bathwater my son Fox had just vacated after a rather intense full-body naked splotching paint session. Once outside I grabbed a stick and feeling somewhat homesteady (I made something from SCRATCH), mixed my kelp liquid supplement with the fruity bathwater.

Now all I had to do was pour it on my plants. I walked inside to find my favorite purple watering can and heard Fox scream loudly. I ran outside to find Fox and Wolf standing on either side of my kelp potion bucket — which was now laying on it’s side. Fox was dripping wet with algae crab piss eau de toilette (crabgae). Wolf had on his look “I’m guilty, but I am going to fight you like a spider monkey before I own this one.”

Someone’s not getting ice-cream tonight.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.