Just a couple of months later, and I’m already basking in the earthy aroma of a thick layer of black gold at the bottom of it. So, no more tiny orange peelings, though I chop bigger stems down to hors d’oeuvre size. I like to imagine the decomposition critters are having a good time in there; they are doing such great work for us.
I take some undeserved modicum of pride to note that a lizard has moved into the Epiphany Pile. Surely that is a sign of a healthy compost heap, though his presence does complicate things. I’m now terrified to stab the critter when I pitch my fork in to turn over the heap.
So, I announce my intentions in advance: “I’m about to stick a sharp thing in here! Right here where I’m tapping! Move away for your own safety!” Which gives the local dog walkers another reason to move to the other side of the street.
Listen to the Introduction
Buy the Book