Rotting

Serious gardeners love to talk about the right way to make a compost pile. Some of my gardening friends add stuff in layers, in some kind of careful ratio. Some are very systematic about how often they turn everything over with a pitchfork. I've heard scientists argue about the optimal height for a compost pile. (Some say three feet, and others say four.) Other gardeners will argue that you should have not one, but two compost piles, so that you always have some compost ready to use.

I admit, I have nothing much to add to that conversation. I am a lazy gardener. The compost bucket in my kitchen fills up fast — as you can imagine it might in a houseful of mostly vegetarians who eat constantly. But in the cold weather, which is most of the year here, I don't bother walking all the way out to my compost pile. I put on a pair of boots, grab the bucket, go out through the garage to the raised bed gardens right near the back door, and toss the scraps right onto the vegetable garden. It just seems easier. That way, I don't have to put on my coat. And it's all going to end up in the garden anyhow, right? When spring comes, the compost thaws and decays, and I just turn it into the soil. It's probably not the optimal way to enrich my garden, but it's good enough for me.

I keep several big bowls of fruit on my counter at all times, and if ever I find a piece of fruit that is starting to rot, I usually open the back door, still standing on the kitchen linoleum in my socks, and just chuck the fruit in the direction of the garden. I do the same thing with apple cores or grapefruit rinds. My aim has gotten quite accurate. It's pretty much the only fun part of cleaning the kitchen, unless you count the sarcastic comments I have to hear from Boy in Black about how things worked so much better when he was in charge. In the cold weather, the fruit stays colourful for weeks or even months, and the compost spread across the snow can actually be quite pretty.