Look at that face. The joy. The happiness. The relief. This is a man whose Christmas has come early. And why?

WE HAVE MANURE!

After weeks of missing out on the weekly manure delivery, due to the gardening ninjas getting in there first and swiping the booty, I thought it was about time I raised the game to another level. This gardener was taking the battle for Pooh Corner to the allotment ‘old boys’, and instead of waiting for the delivery man, I made a call directly to ‘pooh farm’ to find out when he might be delivering next. In my most feminine and alluring voice, I coaxed him into making a delivery early last Friday morning. Furthermore, he said he would call me when he was on his way. I knew there was a reason I trained to become an actor all those years ago: to convince nice farmers to give me their pooh.

On Friday morning at 8am, I got the call. He was on his way. I was to meet him at the allotment. It felt like a spy thriller. I responded in code in my best Russian accent: “In Moscow, the bird who chirps the loudest, chirps last“.

Quickly getting my boots on, I jogged up to the plot, full of excitement and wonder. It was like Christmas eve, Santa was coming! To my delight, I didn’t have to wait long.

What made it extra special, was that no one else was at the allotment. This pooh was mine! Watching it tip out the back of the truck, I wanted to dive in and bathe myself in its pungent pleasures.

Here’s a photo.

You’re welcome.

However, being the adult I am, I managed to contain myself and exchanged pleasantries with the farmer instead. I thanked him and wished him well as he jumped up into his cab and drove away.

Eighteen wheelbarrowfuls and two hours later, most of my plot was cloaked in a mantle of manure. My work here was done.

Unlike some of the other plot-holders, I made sure there was plenty of manure left for everyone else. After all, that’s what the festive season is all about, isn’t it? Giving.

And boy did those horses give.