Composting excites me. The process of organic matter breaking down and becoming humus, which can then be used to amend garden soil, fascinates me. Everything returns to the Earth, if we allow it.
There is a particular composting bin that I've coveted for some time now. It's large, barrel-shaped, and easily rolls on its base to mix the contents within. This compost bin excites me as much as the thought of a new pair of Frye boots. We have a compost bin but it is on the small side and, presently, chock full. Probably too full for efficient decomposition. Forget stirring what's in the bin, too. At least a quarter of the organic matter would likely end up on the ground and, trust me, would not be fun getting back into the bin. It is a chore that would need to be done otherwise a host of wild animals would be invited to have a smorgasbord in the backyard.
Because our small bin is full, to the point that the lid barely closed (scraps from Thanksgiving were the last to be added), fruit and vegetable scraps have been thrown in the garbage since December. Typing that sentence made me squirm in my seat. The act of adding organic scraps to the garbage, because they aren't garbage, left me wracked with guilt. It was time to purchase the Holy Grail of compost bins.
Last week the Compost Wizard was delivered to our home. I was giggling while opening the box and practically did a little dance after pulling the barrel from the large box. Once the barrel and its base were out of the box, I promptly carried them to the backyard, wearing my Frye garden boots, and set it in place for use.
The bin rests securely on its base but can also be removed and rolled around the yard to deposit compost where it's needed. The functionality of this bin makes me extremely happy. By July, and again in September, I anticipate being able to spread the soils equivalent of chocolate cake around in the garden and flower beds.
Now, I'm off to add a large bowl containing egg shells, onion skins, a shredded egg carton, grapefruit skins, and banana peels to the The Wizard.
There is a particular composting bin that I've coveted for some time now. It's large, barrel-shaped, and easily rolls on its base to mix the contents within. This compost bin excites me as much as the thought of a new pair of Frye boots. We have a compost bin but it is on the small side and, presently, chock full. Probably too full for efficient decomposition. Forget stirring what's in the bin, too. At least a quarter of the organic matter would likely end up on the ground and, trust me, would not be fun getting back into the bin. It is a chore that would need to be done otherwise a host of wild animals would be invited to have a smorgasbord in the backyard.
Because our small bin is full, to the point that the lid barely closed (scraps from Thanksgiving were the last to be added), fruit and vegetable scraps have been thrown in the garbage since December. Typing that sentence made me squirm in my seat. The act of adding organic scraps to the garbage, because they aren't garbage, left me wracked with guilt. It was time to purchase the Holy Grail of compost bins.
Last week the Compost Wizard was delivered to our home. I was giggling while opening the box and practically did a little dance after pulling the barrel from the large box. Once the barrel and its base were out of the box, I promptly carried them to the backyard, wearing my Frye garden boots, and set it in place for use.
The bin rests securely on its base but can also be removed and rolled around the yard to deposit compost where it's needed. The functionality of this bin makes me extremely happy. By July, and again in September, I anticipate being able to spread the soils equivalent of chocolate cake around in the garden and flower beds.
Now, I'm off to add a large bowl containing egg shells, onion skins, a shredded egg carton, grapefruit skins, and banana peels to the The Wizard.
