I am generally unphased with people turning their breast milk into rings, hair into home decor, or tears into art. I won’t buy any of this crazy-ass stuff, but I applaud the gumption and ingenuity to make human waste into beauty, just not under my roof.

I am going to judge you, however, if you decide to turn your loved ones into fertilizer. I know, if they are buried, that is what they become, but the difference is under the nails. 

A company out of Seattle, Washington has been approved to compost our loved ones and return two wheelbarrows full of Grandma-rich soil for use in making your roses grow. How lovely.

If you have ever done any gardening of your own, you know that even with gloves, knee guards, and a full jumpsuit, the soil gets under your nails, wiped on your face, and ground into your clothing and knees. On a full day of planting thirty flats of annuals, it might even end up in all your cracks. This presents several ethical questions if what you are gardening happens to be your family. So consider these conundrums before making the decision to have your family composted.

  1. When coming in from gardening, is it best to shower Great Aunt Mildred off and would she prefer lavender soap as she is washed into the sewer or refreshing cucumber?
  2. Is it better to use the garden hose to wash your nephew into the lawn off your pants? He preferred warm water, but he might not mind this time.
  3. What remains will remain under your nails well after you hose down until you inadvertently pick a popcorn kernel out of the back molar and remember, maybe not as fondly as you want to, that that iron taste you can’t quite place is Nana?
  4. Cousin Richard was a redhead, does he have to be in the shade garden?
  5. When you sell the house, do you dig up the whole garden and take it with you or will just a small jar of your sister do?
  6. Do you feel like you are mocking your Uncle Winston if you plant him under a majestic oak with full knowledge it made him break out into hives before he became dirt?
  7. How long will it take your brother to call Uncle Winston a dirtbag with no sense of irony?
  8. Can you use Mom and Dad in the same garden even though they hadn’t been married for 35 years or do you have to separate them like at Thanksgiving?
  9. Does sheep manure or cow manure convey more respect since they will be sharing a resting place with your mother-in-law?
  10. How does one feel about eating a potato that has been grown in the compost of your deceased husband? I guess you are still sharing a meal and should light a candle to celebrate.
  11. How do you keep the dog from pissing on Little Rebecca?

Finally, is no one else worried about the zombie apocalypse? Putting my dead loved ones and feeding and watering them like I do my zucchini seems like tempting fate. Burning feels safer. And while we are on the topic, anyone who has ever spread ashes knows to check the wind pattern first and close your mouth and eyes out of respect (respect of your own orifices not just respect for your loved one). But, gardening is an eyes-wide-open activity. Burrier beware.



Kristine Laco shares the stories we all have with a splash of sarcasm, a pinch of bitch and a ton of wine at Adulting In Progress dot com. Her middle finger is her favourite and she lives by the motto that if you are not yelling at your kids, you are not spending enough time with them. She takes selfies at the gyno. Taco Tuesday is her gospel. Reality TV is real folks. She is making turning 50 a job because she doesn't have one.

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