Compost, Gertrude and Guilt
Gertrude is the matriarch of the community gardens. She is the one who presides over the waiting list for plots. She is the one who decided that there should be a communal lemon tree, and where it should be planted. She arrives about once a week, grey hair wispy and eyes peering through bottle-top glasses with her little ankle-height dog struggling to stay at her heel. She has a thick accent – German I think – and if she likes you she will give you some bok choy seedlings, or a cutting of rosemary.
About three months ago, she asked me if I would take on the management of the compost heaps. We have six nice big timber compost “bays” recently erected by council. I hesitated. Life is already so busy I never feel I am keeping up. On the other hand – compost. The wonders of death and resurrection represented by the heap. I would much, much rather do compost than any of the other chores Gertrude shares out. Mowing grass bores me. So too weeding. But compost! I said yes.
Since then every second week or so John and I spend an hour or so turning, watering and layering the compost heaps. We established a system, and put up a sign to encourage people to follow it. Fresh materials in the bin with the white stake, compost that is ready to use in the bin with the plain stake. All other bins to be left alone to “cook”. Not everyone reads the notice, though. There is always stuff in the wrong bin.
And for the last few weeks life has been particularly busy, and we have done nothing at all. In the meantime, people have kept weeding, mowing and putting their dead organic matter in the bins. When I watered the other day, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that two bins were full to the brim, and the whole was beginning to descend into chaos. We meant to get up there this evening to sort things out, but we haven’t made it.
In a sense it doesn’t matter. Stuff rots pretty much whatever you do to it. But I confess I am avoiding Gertrude and her gimlet gaze. This weekend, come what may, we must compost. Or else.
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4 opinions for Compost, Gertrude and Guilt
Anne Wayman
Dec 21, 2006 at 3:19 am
I live in a tiny studio - believe me there are many motel rooms that are larger, but it has a garden, about the size of a double car garage… so I stay.
Any suggestions for composting on a truly small scale?
Thanks,
A
http://www.thegoldenpencil.com
Margaret
Dec 21, 2006 at 3:21 pm
I certainly can! In my time I have composted in all kinds of spaces. One solution would be to buying a worm farm. These take up less space than a conventional rubbish bin, and providing you don’t put in any meat products or too many dairy products will dispose of most of your organic rubbish while providing you with a useful liquid fertiliser and lovely worm castings which are great as potting mix. There are a few commercial sources of worm farms and I might post on this in the next few days. Alternatively, you can buy a large bucket- the kind the kind used for nappies - and put your rubbish in, topping each layer with either sawdust or shredded newspaper. Press down hard. You will be surprised how much you can fit in. When the bucket is full, put the lid on and leave it for a while then upturn it in the garden and allow it to be absorbed into the soil or bury it if you prefer.
Mother Earth’s Garden - Worms and how to love them
Dec 21, 2006 at 8:50 pm
[…] I have been asked to give some advice on composting for people with small gardens. There are several possible solutions to this dilemma, but my favourite is worms! […]
Anne Wayman
Dec 21, 2006 at 11:40 pm
I’ve come close to buying a small worm farm thingie… maybe this time I’ll actually do it ;)
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