Brian's the earth-biscuit type, with a flop of blond hair and a kayak rack on his Jeep that he actually uses. He's a community-garden aficionado and a yard farmer who could talk compost for hours—mostly because there's a massive heap of it in his backyard. Brian's compost pile is the Everest of our neighborhood. It is robust of scent and full of twigs, old pineapple rinds, his Australian shepherd's buried rawhide chews, and gigantic mounds of last year's oak leaves. And buried deep inside is some of the best compost Mother Earth has ever cooked. If he could only get to it.
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