Easy, Lazy, No Turn* Compost

For a while now, artisan, no-knead bread has been popular among foodie-types, myself included.  I particularly like the “even lazier” version of no-knead bread, which minimizes mess and hands-on time.  Last week while I was whipping up a batch of no-knead sandwich bread, it dawned on me that my version of making compost is just about the same: minimal fuss, minimal tools, basic ingredients, heat and time.

So, without wasting more valuable time, here’s a step by step guide to Easy, Lazy, No Turn* Compost:

1.  Keep a container for scraps handy in your kitchen.  There are all kinds and I have this fancy one with a filter, but I prefer to use these plastic berry picking buckets.  Each season I get a few new ones & recycle the old yucky ones.  I keep my bucket on the sink & everyone know to toss food scraps in there.

2. Empty your bucket regularly.  If you are too lazy, it starts to smell … and attract fruit flies and ants… Yuck.  We typically fill a bucket every day or two & take it out to this compost pile.  The “active” compost pile is where I pile the daily scraps.  (Note: We’ll spread the remaining aged compost in a few weeks over my fall veggie bed when my plants are more established.)

3.  Dig a shallow hole in your active compost pile.  We keep a pitchfork at the ready beside the pile so that this takes just a moment.  It’s kind of hard to see, but here is a close-up of what the pile looks with the hole prepped:

4.  Add your kitchen scraps to the hole.  Colorful!  The discerning eye might spot two paper towels.  We don’t use many of them, preferring cloth dish towels & fabric napkins, BUT I do line every bucket with a half sheet of paper towel, otherwise clean-up can be gross.  Decomposition starts immediately, even in the bucket.

5.  Cover scraps with lawn waste.  Using your pitchfork, completely cover the scraps with grass clippings, brown leaves, etc.  My son had just cut the lawn & leaves were falling, so this is a nice blend of clippings and chopped leaves.

5.  Repeat the process every few days.  The more kitchen scraps you add, the more compost you will have at the end of the season.  I’ve mentioned this before, but organic in, means organic out.  If you eat mostly organic, non-gmo produce and don’t use chemicals on your lawn, you’ll be producing rich compost for a fraction of the cost you can buy.  WITH PRACTICALLY NO EFFORT ON YOUR PART.

6.  So, walk away and let nature work!  Rain, sunshine, heat and cold, lots of naturally occurring bugs and microorganisms work to decompose your potato skins, banana peels, and coffee grinds into black compost gold.  You can put that back into your veggie beds, annual or perennial beds, or even around your trees and shrubs for happy, healthy plants.

* No-Turn … every compost pile requires some turning to mix the rotting scraps and the fresh additions.  We turn the entire pile two or three times during a six-month season.  Sometimes more, sometimes less.  Mix more if you want to speed up the compost process.  Mix less if you are satisfied with a a six-month process.

Happy composting!

 

The Latest Dirt!

What happens when you pile bucket upon bucket of kitchen scraps into an open bin, add grass clippings and yard waste, and let the sun beat down and the rain pour in all summer? This is what you get:

Rich, black gorgeous compost!  Here’s a close up of the dirt we (actually my ever-willing husband) dug out:

We figured that this pile of compost represents roughly six months of “work,” which breaks down to approximately:

• 1,000 hours of sunshine
• 38.64 inches of rain 
• a whole lot of earthworms (naturally occurring)
• lots of other beneficial bugs and microbes

• 120 buckets of kitchen scraps which could include:
  • over 100 eggshells
  • likely 100 tea bags (no string, tag or staple)
  • scrapings from about 100 carrots
  • scrapings from about 100 potatoes
  • at least 75 onion skins
  • probably 75 banana peels
  • most likely 75 lemon, lime, and/or orange peels
  • corn husks from at least 60 ears of corn (but no cobs)
  • core/stem ends of about 30 heads of lettuce
  • skin from at least 25 avocados (not pits)
  • grounds from at least 25 pots of espresso
  • peels from about 25 cucumbers
  • tough stems from about 20 bunches of kale
  • rinds from at least 12 whole watermelons
  • rings from at least 12 cantaloupes/honeydews
  • countless odds and ends from berries, tomatoes, hot & sweet peppers, broccoli stems, brussels sprouts, celery, garlic, and more
  • a variety of past-its-prime fruit, veggies, and/or herbs from my Toss-It Tuesday fridge clean-up
• Plus:
• 100 lawnmower bags of grass clippings (not all used)
• assorted hedge & veggie garden trimmings
• at least 1,000 spent rose petals & leaves
• lots of spent spring annuals (pansies)

Phew!  Life is complicated enough without worrying about strict combinations of “greens” and “browns” or carbon/nitrogen ratios.  Like life, compost is a balancing act.  You provide the raw materials, Mother Nature provides the sun and rain, and by the end of the season, you’ve got compost to … start all over again.  If we can find time to do, you can too.

 

Tools of the Compost Trade

Other than food scraps and lawn waste, what do you need to compost?

Obviously, a compost bin.  You’ve got lots of bin options from barrels that roll to stacking drawers for easy sorting.  I’m sure they are great, but they have drawbacks: namely, they are pricey, small-ish, and since everything is rotting inside, usually smelly.  Yuck.

This is my compost bin.  Basic, right?  It’s also cheap AND green.  You can tell it’s built from leftover sod pallets and chicken wire.  It doesn’t have a lid so it doesn’t get very “hot”, but that means there is no smell.  It doesn’t have four sides either, so it’s a little messy, but we’re making dirt here, so I don’t think that’s a problem.   It’s currently a bit on the empty side since we dug out most of the good stuff for spring mulching.

Notice the pitchfork.  In addition to the bucket that holds kitchen scraps, it’s THE essential tool for cooking compost.  It’s been outside in that pile 24/7 for a few years now and it’s just fine.

Here’s my compost routine:

• Collect bits and pieces throughout the day in my countertop bucket.
• Carry the bucket (sometimes fragrant if it’s been a particularly onion-y day) from the kitchen to the backyard pile, admiring my newly emerging veggies, sniffing just-opened roses (which are really exquisite this year – pictures soon), and breathing in the heady fresh scent of the outdoors (see composting equals calm).
• Tip my bucket of goodies onto the TOP of the pile, making sure that wayward egg shells and lemon halves don’t roll down and hit my feet.
• WIth my trusty pitchfork, gather some grass clippings from the pile next to the bin (picture for another day, just imagine it, ok?) and cover the fresh scraps.
• If I’m low on clippings or it’s windy & the grass isn’t sticking to the scraps, I poke my pitchfork into the bottom of the pile, and dredge out some chunky “dirt” and throughly cover things.  I usually hit worms (and then I cheer!  They are your compost’s BFF).  Aren’t they cute?  You want LOTS of worms.  (Keep in mind I only touch them with a pitchfork because they also kind of gross me out.)
• And that’s pretty much it.  I bang out any remaining scraps from the bucket, commence with nature therapy as I walk back to the house, rinse the bucket with the outdoor hose, dump that water in my veggie boxes, and I’m done with compost chores for the day.  It’s that simple.  Those worms are doing the hard work.

Tomorrow?  Details on exactly WHAT goes in the bucket and, consequently, the bin.