Who says sour can't be fun

I can't seem to grow fruit trees. The Bearss lime tree planted over ten years ago is still an infant and has produced exactly 5 limes (the size of cotton balls) in all that time. Way back in the day, there was a struggling lemon tree, which happily produced a few lemons until it fell over in a storm. It looked to be about 50 years old when we moved in, so we weren't surprised that it decided to give up. The point is, that having lemon in my afternoon tea is a requirement, and there are no trees in our yard to supply that demand. Except -- this neighborhood has abundant lemons and people are so willing to share. Yes, they even leave boxes of fresh picked lemons on the front porch, knowing they will be juiced in a nano second and put to good use. Now here's where it gets a bit messy. Juicing is time consuming and cleanup is no fun, but what to do with the rinds? If you just toss them in compost, they simply get rock hard and take forever to decompose. Throwing them in the trash should be punishable by having to perform a several block trash pickup, so what's the answer? Well, it's time consuming, but there is a solution. Just cut the rinds into tiny pieces, set them out to dry, and then put them in a blender to create a wonderful lemon dust that happily goes into the compost tumbler. Also helps to keep it smelling fresher. Or, if you don't have a compost pile, you can add it directly to the soil as it helps plants that prefer a little acidity. 

This pile represents 1-1/2 hour of juicing and 1 hour of slicing rinds. A perfect combo for a drizzly, cloudy day. 

Vermi what now?

Vermiculture composting is simply a fancy way of saying you have a worm bin filled with red wrigglers who break down food scraps and produce worm castings, which is another fancy way of saying worm poop. It is highly prized by gardeners because it is seriously rich in everything your plants need and amends even the worst soil. Now, most sane people in the world have their worm bins outside in a shed or garage. Naturally, in case you haven't caught on, my sanity is in question. I am probably the only human on the planet that has her worm bin in the walk in shower of the second bathroom. (Not necessarily recommended, but it works for me).

Now, when you set up a worm bin, it is common to use coconut coir as the bedding for the worms. It must feel like a well wrung out sponge as the worms need damp, but not sopping wet homes. The top two levels are filled with the coconut coir; the bottom level is for capturing worm tea -- another fancy term for worm pee. Which is liquid gold and caught in the pot beneath the spigot. 

After the bin is set up and the worms have been doing their thing for a while, you can add shredded paper to fluff up the bins and soak up any excess water. Hence the basket holding the shredded paper to the left of the bin. Caution -- only use paper that is black ink on white. Colored ink can be poisonous and you don't want to kill off your worm colony.

For table/cooking scraps, we have a small crock on the counter top and when it's full, it goes into the compost tumbler (the thing on the right). It only takes a few weeks to make great nutritious soil. Instead of spreading it around immediately, I put it into the bin to the left and let it marinade some more. It may also get mixed into the big bin in the back (see below).

My friend K was instrumental in helping me cobble together the pallet compost bin for all the leaves we have around our yard. Now the recipe for compost is 2/3 brown (like leaves) and 1/3 green. That's where it got dicey. I have no lawn to mow and if food scraps go in, so do the rats. What to do? Well, I've mentioned several times that we have an incredible neighborhood of helpful, generous souls. My next door neighbor, M, kindly agreed to save his grass cuttings for my bin. It works like a charm. You can't really tell, but the big heap on the left is compost ready to be spread; the small pile on the right is all grass clippings. As soon as the big pile is moved out, more leaves will be added, and then the cooking will begin anew.

If you're wondering why I'm doing this, let's just say being a dotty old bat who cares about the planet isn't such a bad way to spend some time.