 Lil' gooz | Sarangel | Junior Dweeb
Oh man. That was a lot of words. Norah forced her concentration back to Professor Myers every time her eyes began to wander over to the bins of materials. What WERE they? Could she have extra to make extra compost for all the extra plants ever? How did he decide what to put in there? She scrunched her nose and concentrated even harder as he went on, finding it much easier to pay attention to his words once he moved on to the characteristics of all the manures. See that? She hadn't known those. She tried not to feel to relieved when he was finished with his speech, 'cause that wouldn't be very nice especially to such a rad professor, but she didn't hold back a big grin as she put on her gloves. Composting time. Oh yeah.
By the time all the manure information was recorded in her notes, Norah had already decided on the one she wanted to use. Professor Myers said that knarl manure was good for flowers so it was almost a no-brainer, even for somebody as indecisive as she was. Flowers trumped EVERYTHING. And knarls were super cool, so that was a nice bonus. The layer of straw was added to the soil a bit haphazardly, not because she wasn't interested in the outcome of her compost but because the idea of choosing the other components was far too exciting to be put off any longer. Norah wove through other students to grab some little buckets before returning to the all the materials. Hmm. HMMMMM. After far more inspection of each category of materials than was probably necessary, she prepared a bucket of knarl manure (that bit was delightfully squishy, but don't tell anybody she thought that), then moved on to the moist materials where a bucket of potato skins and another of orange pulp were prepared. The dead flowers hit a little too close to home in her flower-loving heart, so she passed over those quickly before attending to her last bucket, which was loaded with pine needles. Ta da! That was only four items, but she couldn't decide between grass or leaves for the final bucket, so it was far easier to just pick neither.
The fifth year wrinkled her nose at the now much more prominent smell of manure, trying to smile through the unpleasantness because this was going to be AWESOME. There was no doubt about it.
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