earthen clay

A motley crew of about 7 or 8 of us assembled down by the shitter nearest the main cabin. Slick sweat streaked queens wearing tight blue wranglers and boots or a neon yellow thong with a cut up crop top and bandana wrapped around his nose and mouth. Pulling on work gloves we quickly organized into smaller groups of one person taking the shovel into the bowels of the shitter and another at the ready with the wheelbarrow. Once full, pushing it uphill across the gravel way past little groups of tulle, wigs, glitter and heels gossiping and laughing, down past the kitchen house music blasts with sounds of lunch being prepared laughing and down into the orchard where a dancing hottie shovels pulled wilted weeds onto the pile of decomposing shit where it will sit for a season or so until it gets spread under the fruit trees. I grip the wheelbarrow as tight as I can sweat making it threaten to slip out of my strong hands and careen down the hill into the steaming pile. But I keep control and empty my load, turning around with a smile at the cutie and head back toward the shitter for another fill. By this time Charming has gone deep inside scraping out the dregs of last year’s shit having accumulated until now. As soon as he finishes another is ready and waiting with an empty wheelbarrow, With Enthusiasm! We find condoms, douche pipets, wrappers and undecomposed corncobs and tough citrus rinds. We’re having fun now blasting music and making it cute. Showing off as we strain our muscles in the sun pushing the wheelbarrow, flexing at the other queers like look I’m shoveling your shit babe, you can thank me later, or never - eyes twinkling.