True Confessions

Ok – I have a confession to make.  I did try composting once.

It all started about a year ago, right after Jack dug up the Canna lily bulbs for the winter.  As I watched him bundle them up in newspaper, I thought of how excited he would be the following year when my compost transformed his garden into something even his green thumb couldn’t imagine. 

Jack had given the lawn its final mowing earlier in the day in preparation for the winter frost.  I remembered hearing somewhere that yard waste would make a good compost base, so I grabbed the rake and gathered up all the grass clippings. I added them to the pile of leaves we had raked the week before. 

At the end of the first day I looked at the pile of leaves and grass behind our house among the trees and rocks, and it was good.

On the second day, I decided to add our garbage to the pile. I took an old plastic Folgers coffee tub and made room for it under the sink. I started dumping coffee grinds, egg shells, vegetable skins, fruit rinds, and anything else that seemed appropriate. When the tub was full, I stomped out to the pile and emptied the contents on top. The more disgusting my compost looked, the prouder I felt.  As you may remember, I have a “save the Earth” type sister. As I added to my compost pile I thought of Loretta and smiled smugly. This, too, was good.

The Horror!

My sister looked at me with horror as I threw the egg shells and coffee grinds from the morning’s breakfast into the trash.  Loretta was visiting from California, where she is one of those people who is always trying to save the planet.  I wouldn’t mind so much, except that I’m not.  Some years back during another one of her visits, Loretta convinced me to start recycling.  She said it’s not so much for our benefit, but for the next generations.  I have two nephews whom I adore, so she got to me with that one.  I now rinse out every soda bottle and can of beans, flatten each cereal carton and milk container, and can be counted on to have two weeks’ worth of newspapers on hand come recycling day.

Now my recycling efforts are not enough.  Loretta rode into Chelmsford this time on her composting high horse.  She even threatened to take her mango rinds and banana peels back to San Francisco with her, rather than watch me throw them out.  Not wanting to alienate the traveling public – Loretta is the queen of carry-ons – I gave in.   She tells me compost “does wonders with the garden, too.”  I’m not a gardener, but my husband is.   I figure while I’m helping Loretta save the planet, I can rack up some frequent favor miles with Jack when I help him beautify his clematis and sunflowers this spring.  Ok, now what?