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I became a worm mom recently, through serendipity and the generosity of a compost-wacko compadre. It’s odd and humbling, having become completely at ease with my farming impulses even as I cherish city life, to suddenly be unsure whether I’m up to the task of caring for my squirmy charges. I seem to be doing fine so far. I give them coffee grounds and whirred-up remains of my salads that would otherwise go in the compost bins. And, well, I’ll let you know. But here is an absolute inspiration: Will Allen, who has seen why urban farming is essential and is striving to make it accessible. I’m not sure why I had to read the New York Times to find out what’s going on in my own backyard, but there you have it. “Creating soil from waste is what I enjoy most,” he said. “Anyone can grow food.” So simple—and so true.
This evening when I went into the alley to throw out some things, I came upon a short, shiny row of apples at the base of one trash cart. My first compost-wacko thought was: “Marvy! More for my bins.” Then I noticed the apple line was pointing to a box full of rotting fruits, and next to that—another. Yep, I’m a cheap date. I get giddy from finding that someone has dumped rotting fruit behind my house.
I took this as an invitation to start up the new batch in my second bin, the one I harvested for this year’s garden. So I cleared out the last few cups of finished compost and tossed the gift fruits in: 177 apples, several bunches of grapes, 2 oranges, 1 peach and 1 plum.
Then I ripped up the juice-soaked cardboard boxes and added them as browns to balance out the fresh(ish) fruits. Now this will be the main putrescible pile, as we let the other binful burn down and transform into next year’s fertilizer. And this bin is well on its way to churning out beautiful, frugal food for the 2011 garden.
On the other side of the yard, it’s almost scape time!
Added for an inquiring commenter:
I got that one free from a friend who didn’t have room for it anymore. I think the city sells them for $40 in the spring, along with rain barrels.
Lookit this stuff that was cushioning the delivery I just received—it appears to be a shredded cardboard box.
I think this is cool on several levels: It makes use of old cardboard boxes, which I seem to spend several hours a month breaking down and recycling (though what a behemoth that shredder must be); it means I didn’t just receive another flurry of packing peanuts, which must be magnetized to pop into orbit and meld with everything within 5 feet of the bag I try to corral them into; and it looks perfect for adding to the compost as a brown.
See? I’m such a cheap date.
