Yesterday, my father came over to help me rake, clip trees, and pull gnarly bushes that had cropped up all over the garden.
There's me, surveying a pile of spindly tree parts that would not easily decompose for many months: “I think I’ll throw these in the compost bin.”
Father: “Do you ever use your compost pile?”
(Meaning, I think: Do I ever use the finished compost in my garden?)
Me, nodding to tree parts, “I use it to put things in.”
Father: “Why don’t you just get rid of it?”
Me: “But then where would I put things?”