Confessions of a Compost Geek

This weekend my son and I enthusiastically partook in our annual compost preparation ritual. This may not seem particularly exciting, but for us, for whatever reason, it is. We begin by emptying a large rolling drum of slightly stinky, moist kitchen scraps that have been patiently breaking down for up to 12 months with the assistance of millions of microbes, insects, worms, and their ilk. As the dogs circle the periphery like sharks, we relocate this rich sludge into another, larger container, pick out the corn cobs and avocado pits, throw in peat moss, dead leaves and grass, then mix and mix and mix yet again. We let this new concoction sit for a week or more while we ready the vegetable bed for its impending elixir. The end product--pure, nutrient-rich garden gold--provides me with boundless joy. I visit my opus daily, poke it regularly with a shovel, move it around, and cautiously label it with “annie’s compost” signage lest anyone on our shared premises mistake this container for something needing disposal.

My approach to composting is my own and a far cry from the textbook processes I’ve learned about in the composting workshops I’ve participated in over the years--yes, I’ve participated in more than one. As part of my Master Gardener certification process, I delved even deeper into the science of compost and was able to tour the compost heaps of other Master Gardeners, each heap more fascinating than the previous. One of the heaps we visited was the opus of yet another compost geek who, in his “Compost Happens” t-shirt, enthusiastically detailed his maverick approach. He began by digging a 5 foot-deep hole and then filled it with alternating layers of biodegradable waste (meat, dairy, cardboard, pizza scraps, as well as the standard vegetative matter) and brown garden clippings (dried grass, leaves, etc.). Once this first hole was full a year or so later, he began the process yet again, digging the next 5 foot-deep hole adjacent to the first. Since he had been doing this process for years his entire vegetable patch sat atop 5 feet of solid garden gold. He had a bumper crop of thriving, bursting, joyous veggies. And the corn patch, the corn patch--I experienced full-fledged corn patch envy.  

My earliest attempts at composting consisted of dumping food scraps in the side yard and throwing a little soil over it to keep it from smelling. I didn’t use the resulting compost to enrich my garden as I didn’t have one. I was just tying to keep my food scraps from their inevitable trip to the landfill where they would take up valuable space while being denied their nature-given purpose of feeding the earth’s hungry soil. My next evolutionary step consisted of digging a shallow hole and filling it up with kitchen scraps--again with the sole purpose of reducing landfill load and allowing nutrients to get back into the soil where they belong. When I began growing my own food some years later, I started digging two holes: one for organic kitchen waste (without chemicals of any kind) to be used later on edible plants and one for non-organic kitchen waste (with chemicals) to be used everywhere else. This system worked well, though where we lived at the time our earth was frozen half the year so I had to come up with another plan--enter the spinning composter.  A large drum atop a spinning platform, this compost bin takes about a year to fill up and I can easily aerate and blend the contents by simply giving it a spin. I use the spinning composter for organic matter (which currently includes chemical-free coffee and tea grounds, egg shells, and fruit and vegetable scraps) and a homemade cylindar-shaped roll of wire fencing for non-organic matter and garden clippings. I have used this approach for the past 6 years and the result is, well, a bumper crop of thriving, bursting, joyous veggies.

After a decade of compost research and experimentation, I can say with some confidence that there really is no right or wrong way to approach composting and it certainly need not be difficult.  Start by simply digging a small hole in a side yard and toss in food scraps. Who knows, before long you too may join the ranks of the compost geek, proudly prodding and poking your earthen opus in your "Compost Happens" t-shirt.

Peace,

Annie

Comments

[Deborah]

I am drooling at the thought of starting a garden, but we are renting in No. Cal right now. I think Heritage Seeds will be like gold soon! When we're ready I want to ask you more about your composting and which spinning composter you have. My new fear is about all the perchlorate in the water for us here in california. I want a whole house RO water filtration system to water the garden with 'clean' water!

[garden]

Nice writing. You are on my RSS reader now so I can read more from you down the road.

Allen Taylor