How to Cure Manure or Burning Your Plants
Yes, You Do Have to Cure It Before It Wrecks Your Garden. A Gardener’s Guide to Curing Fresh Manure Safely Ruin Your Garden Into Safe Compost.
Look, I get it. You finally scored a glorious pile of manure. Maybe it came from a local horse stable, maybe from your neighbor’s chatty cow named Mabel. Either way, you are standing in front of a mountain of potential plant gold. But hold your shovel, composting fresh manure is not as simple as tossing it into your garden and calling it a day.
If you skip the curing step, you might just fry your poor plants into oblivion. That fresh manure is hot. Not spicy hot, more like compost reactor core hot. Let us not burn your tomatoes before they even get a chance.
So, what do you do with all this lovely stink? Let me walk you through it.
Where Are You Getting This Stuff?
If you have never hauled manure before, let me warn you, it is a stinky, glorious mess. But also weirdly satisfying. Local stables and dairy farms are usually happy to give it away, especially if you promise to take a whole truckload off their hands. You might even get lucky and find someone who will deliver it straight to your driveway. (Your neighbors will love that.)
Horse manure tends to be the gardener’s favorite, it is rich, breaks down nicely, and makes your compost pile feel a little more luxurious. But cow and pig manure are no slouches either. Just remember: pigs better be eating grains and veggies, not leftover fast food. Otherwise, skip it.
So You Got the Manure. Now What?
Let us get to the part where we stop it from being a plant killer and turn it into black gold.
Step 1:
Lay Out a Tarp
Find a nice out-of-the-way spot and roll out a good sturdy tarpaulin. This is your curing zone.
Step 2:
Dump It Like You Mean It
Get that manure pile onto the tarp. Use a shovel, a pitchfork, or the sheer power of gravity. This is the messy part. Embrace it.
Step 3:
Wrap It Up Like a Burrito
Fold the sides of the tarp up and around the pile. You are making a manure burrito. Sort of. Stay with me.
Step 4:
Put Another Tarp on Top
Then weigh it down with rocks, boards, bricks, whatever you have lying around that will not blow away in the wind.
Step 5:
Let It Breathe (Just a Bit)
Cut two or three small vents in the top tarp. This is where the steam escapes. That heat you feel rising? It is working. That is composting magic right there.
How Long Do You Wait?
Six months. Yup, a whole half-year. This is not a quick fix—it is a long game. But if you start in the fall, by the time spring rolls around and your seed packets are calling your name, you will have beautiful, crumbly, cured manure ready to feed your garden.
Oh, and here is a little trick I learned the hard way: if you want a steady supply, start a new pile every two to three months. You will thank yourself later when your friends are still buying bagged compost and you are basically running a manure empire.
Bonus Tips from the Garden Trenches
While that manure is curing, the heat will kill off most weed seeds. No uninvited guests sprouting in your lettuce patch.
Goat poop? Totally garden-ready. It is mild and can be used right away. No curing needed.
Same with rabbit droppings. They are basically little nuggets of plant joy. Just toss them on the soil, scratch them in, and water like usual.
Warnings from a Cautious (and Slightly Grossed-Out) Gardener
Never, and I mean never, use cat or dog waste in your garden. I do not care how “natural” it seems. Even healthy pets carry disease organisms that have no business near your carrots.
And again, only use pig manure if you are 100% sure the pigs have been eating clean. Table scraps are a no-go.
Curing manure might not be glamorous, but it is one of those slow, satisfying garden rituals that pay off big-time when you are harvesting juicy tomatoes and leafy greens like a backyard wizard. Composting fresh manure takes patience, a little know-how, and maybe a strong nose, but it is absolutely worth it.
Got a tarp? Got time? Then you are already halfway there.
Want to chat manure, composting, or what to do when a squirrel steals your squash? Drop a comment or swing by my garden. I will be the one ankle-deep in mulch, grinning like I found treasure, because I did.
