I wanted a calm and mindless task to round off the day. Sieving compost: just the ticket, and I’m late with the vegetable sowings. Collecting up the equipment and various bags of ingredients, one thing was inexplicably missing. Soon I was stomping about. “Vermiculite! Now WHERE are you?” Stomp. Rummage. Open doors. Poke. “Where have you GONE?” Close doors. Stomp.
It was time to learn another sad life lesson. Vermiculite is not obedient. It doesn’t come when it’s called.