Composting

Those romantics in the crowd will realize that love lost, hard times, and broken dreams pile up and become the foundation of new opportunities. Then there those of us that have given up on that. But those romantic thoughts certainly work for food scraps! Hot dog!
Half of my backyard is turned over into garden and I have neighbors on all three sides. I realized that if I was to compost, I had to find some sort of technological solution or be run out of town on a rail. Through a series of other accidents, I discovered the Lehman's catalog. Much of the goods there are American made, as the Amish don't really live anywhere else except Ohio. There, I found the Urban Composter, a black recycled plastic barrel that composts without omitting hardly any smell.
When I first got the barrel, I put it close to my house so I could easily put my scraps in it. Sounds reasonable, no? Everything worked that first summer. Then fall came. My backyard is to the north of my house, which means in the winter, the sun does not touch the earth close to my house and my big black plastic compost barrel froze solid. Finally, spring came and I started over.
So last year, I moved the compost barrel as far away from my house as possible. This kept the compost cooking – very slowly – all last winter. I emptied it just a few weeks ago and tilled it into my garden.
Of course, I didn't let it cook quite long enough and I fear that as the composting continues, I will leach every last free molecule of nitrogen out of my soil and kill all my poor plants. Where could I find some free nitrogen?
Enter the chickens. Well, more specifically, chicken poo, which is jam packed with nitrogen. Raising these chicks has helped complete the use and reuse cycle of my own little backyard farm. Plus, when fully grown, chicken scratching aerates the soil and the birds eat grubs and other pests. Just make sure to wash the veggies before you eat them…