Compost

A few posts ago I told how I didn't like to waste things. One thing I don't like to waste is all the organic matter in my kitchen that we don't eat. You know, all the potato peelings and dead lettuce and apple cores. Several years ago we started a compost pile, and now it is a dandy. I make daily deposits of vegetable matter but I also include meat scraps and bones. Some people object to animal products in the compost, but I once heard a compost expert say that you could put anything in the compost pile that was once alive. As a side benefit, I've found that by not putting previously-alive things in the garbage, I only have to set the garbage can out once every two weeks or less for pickup, and it never smells bad.

Today was a good day to harvest the compost pile, and it's also a good way for me to get some exercize. So I took the wheelbarrow and shovel and got to work sifting the compost. I shoveled scoop after scoop of raw compost onto the compost sifter which sits on top of the wheelbarrow. This clever gadget was hand made for me by my dear husband for Mother's Day one year--isn't he romantic?? My work was made easier by the nocturnal visitor who has been coming for the last couple weeks--an armadillo who seems to like the compost pile almost as much as I do. He (or she?) has been digging around out there with its very strong and sharp snout, breaking up the clods and saving me the trouble. The pile is full of yummy grubs.

I almost gave up before my job was finished because I ran into the mother of all fire ant nests on one side of the compost pile. They came after me with a vengence for disturbing their massive array of tunnels. The gound was undulating with swarms of angry ants, each one trying to carry a white egg sack to safety. Luckily, I only got bitten two or three times.

The five wheelbarrows full of sifted, rich brown dirt were deposited on top of the flower garden by the front door. (This area is also the cat's favorite "box.") Times like this I ask myself why I don't have a vegetable garden. But I know why. Except for the dirt that comes from my compost pile, the rest of the ground here is made of white chalk.