Read by Christy Page

GGrowing up in the enchanting Virginia countryside, my nose was the first to explore the wonders of our family garden. Picture the Spring awakening, with the aroma of freshly thawed soil wafting through the air—ah, the sweet smell of growing things, and, of course, the unmistakable fragrance of cow manure “patties” tucked away in the distant corners.

Now, let me take you on a delightful journey of a cherished family tradition—the Cow Patty Hunt. You see, my granddad was a connoisseur of this unique activity, armed with a pail, a long stick, and unbridled enthusiasm for the quest.

In our gardening escapades, my granddad would educate me on the fine art of cow patty identification. Green ones were off-limits, but the dry ones were fair game. Armed with a stick, we tapped and turned them over, leaving the wet ones to sunbathe for another day. Those that had dried to perfection were collected, like treasures in a pirate’s chest.

Fast-forward a few decades, and it was time for me to pass down this quirky gardening wisdom to my niece. Our gardening lessons had been going swimmingly until the day of Cow Patty Hunting 101.

With boots, gloves, pail, and stick in hand, we ventured into the cow pasture. I explained to her that we were about to uncover a family secret for a bountiful garden. After a few unsuccessful attempts, we stumbled upon the perfect cow patty. As we gleefully collected our find, a fresh deposit from the cow itself landed right beside us. I winked at my niece and said, “We’ll be back for that in a few days.”

The realization hit her like a ton of cow patties. Her wide-eyed shock and dropped jaw were priceless as we made our way back to the garden. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her silent bewilderment. Back at the garden, we transformed our bounty into “black gold”—the secret ingredient to our thriving plants.

As we cleaned up and prepared the harvested veggies for dinner, I couldn’t resist a bit of family wisdom: “You know we are what we eat. Nothing beats fresh produce straight from the garden, right?”

With a matter-of-fact nod, she replied, “Yes, I know. Guess that’s why Mom says Daddy is full of bull crap when he makes her laugh.”

And there it was—a family tradition passed down through generations, blending gardening wisdom with a generous dose of laughter. Now, as a grown woman with a family and a garden of her own, my niece shares a good laugh whenever we embark on a cow patty hunt together. After all, who said gardening couldn’t be a little bit messy and a whole lot of fun? ❖

 
About the Author: Tammy Hanline comes from a heritage of gardening, finding joy and fulfillment in cultivating the soil and reaping its bounty.