Jan 14 2010
Composticated
The other day, I went to unite my compost with my sister’s, and discovered that there’s no room at the inn.
Hmm.
It seems that two’s company, and three’s a crowd when it comes to compost, too. So I’ll have to come up with an alternative arrangement. Like either getting old or dying (incredibly, our only choices), neither is all that appealing.
Possibility One: Get my own compost.
Pros: Closer to my house. Less annoying to Megan and Rob when I put in things that don’t belong there, like citrus peels and eggshells. I’m having a hard time training myself not to put things like that in the compost after years of merrily tossing them into my ginormous green bin in Oakland. You could put bones in there, too, which you can’t do here, for fear of marauding animals.
Cons: Gross. And disgusting. Not sure I could convince Rob to deal with it on my behalf, at least not all the time. Did I mention the ick factor? Also, it would almost certainly attract skunks and raccoons, well-known for their mess-making abilities, and possibly bears.
Not loving this option.
Possibility Two: Just throw it in the trash.
Pros: I won’t have to haul it over to Megan’s. No dealing with the hideous bug life in the compost box or shoveling it around, or hoeing it, whatever it takes to maintain it/make it into compost from a big pile of leftovers and assorted ickiness.
I don’t need compost anyway, since my garden is an all you can eat buffet for Lucky and her friends and I won’t be tending flower beds in a gentlewomanly manner. Also I could barely deal with window boxes when I had them. Why is gardening supposed to be fun, when it’s just manicure-destroying dirt with worms and bugs? Gardening, like housecleaning, is an activity best left to the pros.
Cons: My sister claims it makes the garbage extra stinky, and it’s already stinky enough. And you have to pay to dispose of garbage, so why add to that?
Not loving this stinky option, either.
Any suggestions?