We
bought our first home in July of 2006. Situated on an acre of mostly
wooded property, we had ample leaf fiber and space for a full-blown
composting operation. We originally planned a large, elaborate,
DIY system that never got off the ground, located near a patch of
earth we had staked for a vegetable garden. A year later we accepted
the fact that this idea would never get off the drawing board, and
we began to look through catalogues for a premade composter.
The
most affordable one that would fit our needs cost $130. As we had
the knowledge of making a superior composter for a mere fraction
of that, there was no way we were going to spend that kind of money.
In
the end, after scrapping another idea for a toned-down DIY project,
and almost on a whim, we turned a Rubbermaid container that once
held tools into a composting bin that conveniently sits in our carport.
The
pictorial below details the process of seeding and starting again
with leaf fiber and shredded paper after our first compost "harvest."
Here
are the finished results of approximately two months of "cooked"
compost. You'll find some leaves in the mix if you look closely.
This is why you need to mince the leaves a finely as you can;
we ran over a pile of leaves with our mower, but obviously
a fair amount survived. As you can see, the leaves don't break
down.
Your
final product should be dark--almost black, rich, and smelling
earthly sweet. Compost that is not ready has rotted wet matter--the
food items--that hasn't broken down yet and also stinks. Compost
that's ready for your garden will have a pleasant, rich-soil
smell.
This
is our compost bin. It's a long Rubbermaid tub that has a
pair of wheels at one end. The wheels are a great feature
on a composter; you can lug it anywhere in your yard with
ease!
You
can see ventilation in the exposed handle area at one end
(also at the opposing end). It's not much, but it acts like
the vents in a CPU chassis, shuttling air in and out. When
composting, you must have adequate oxygen exchange because
methane gas can build up and literally blow the lid off your
bin.
We
perforated the lid with a drill for further air exchange.
I stirred the compost every day or so. We had no problems
with oxygen getting to the compost. In fact, I personally
think the dark, enclosed environment helped break down the
material at a faster rate.
After
harvesting the finished compost, we left a little more than
a gallon at the bottom to seed the next batch. Then we shredded
our junk mail into a compost-feeding confetti. The paper is
"dry" material that's crucial to breaking down the
wet, rotting stuff and creating compost.
Note:
compost purists (or compost nazis, if you prefer) frown on
the usage of paper because of the black or color ink on the
paper. My wife has been making herb gardens with layers of
newspaper and soil (a "lasagna garden") for years
and every one has been a great success with very little weeds.
In regard to the health risk of the ink and potential contamination
of ground water, I personally think it's nothing compared
to the hard chemicals routinely sprayed on our produce.
Here
we have the remains of a leaf pile I made along the edge of
our woods two autumns ago. I simply ran the mower over the
pile, repeatedly mincing the leaves until they were as fine
as possible.
I
took what I needed and left the rest for future compost cycles.
Leaf
fiber is the most crucial ingredient in your compost stew.
You always want to have a ratio of 2:1 or even 3:1 dry to
wet matter. If you don't have enough dry matter like paper
or leaf fiber, your wet matter won't break down and will simply
turn into a rotting swamp.
I
filled up the Rubbermaid bin more than halfway with shredded
paper and leaf fiber. Then I gave everything a good stir with
a shovel.
No
compost buffet would be complete without the signature watermelon
rind.
We
keep a sealed container in the kitchen for food wastes. When
it's full, we dump the contents into the compost bin in the
carport. We originally kept the food matter in a bucket, but
naturally fruit flies moved in and we quickly had an infestation.
Even
though the Rubbermaid composter is only a few feet outside
the kitchen, having some kind of temporary storage/transport
from the cutting board to the outdoor bin is much more efficient
than constant trips to the carport while you're chopping vegetables.
Quickly,
here's what you want in your composter:
Vegetable
and fruit matter (onion exteriors, fruits and veggies that
have turned, peelings, rinds, husks, apple and lettuce cores,
etc.)
Egg
shells without any whites or yolk, crushed
Tea
bags and coffee grounds
Finely
chopped fish (shellfish, especially the exoskeleton, included)
Pasta
and some grains (once again the compost purists say NO to
pasta, but I've found it breaks down as fast as plant matter
if not faster)
Used
paper napkins, in moderate numbers
And
this is what you do not want:
Dairy
products
Meat
Bones
Processed
foods of any kind (junk foods like potato chips, fries,
candy, etc.)
Oils
and grease
My
wife's parents compost everything organic (containing carbon,
the element of life, not organic as in natural), including
the stuff in the don'ts list above. And you know what?
It works out fine for them. Granted, their end results are
not as black or rich as ours turned out, and the stuff rots
a lot slower, but they've had no problems at all with their
gardens.
This
is the temporary bin in which we kept our wet matter while
the main composter spent three weeks "digesting"
the stuff we had earlier laid in. When the compost really
begins to break down, and you feel you have a good amount,
give it a rest for two to three weeks and let it finish. You
don't want half-rotted banana peels and apple cores in your
garden, do you?
You're
going to get a lot of maggots, then a lot of flies, so you
may want to keep your temporary bin not so close to your house.
Also, you'll need a strong stomach as things get nasty when
you compost only wet material.
Notice
the dried grass. I threw in a handful every time I made a
big deposit. I found this helped with the smell and kept things
from turning into a complete gooey mess.
One
more note about grass.
If
the smell of your compost is killing you, throw in some fresh
herbs, like rosemary shown to the right.
As
you can see, our rosemary really likes its spot and grows
like a weed.
I
tossed in two massive handfuls early on in our first compost
batch. The leaves broke down, but the limbs remained, although
they were on their way out during harvest time. I'd recommend
tying the herbs together in a bail of sorts so you can easily
pull it out when your compost is ready.
A
handful of fresh or dry grass clippings, scattered over the
top of the compost, acts as an accelerant to biodegradation.
Lawn clippings are an excellent source of nitrogen and do
a great job of kick-starting the composting process.
All
in, here's what the compost stew looks like after a quick
stir with the shovel. The brown stuff is the leaf fiber. Note
I purposely kept the seeded compost, the black, rich stuff,
at the bottom.
Generally,
when stirring, you want to mix up the very bottom with the
top. Give everything a good shake and stir.
You'll
discover the stuff at the bottom composts faster, where there's
less oxygen and light. During hot days, you may even see your
compost pile steaming. This is normal and a sign that it's
"cooking."
In
summary, a Rubbermaid bin makes for an excellent composter.
You probably have one lying around your house right now. This
setup is ideal for small houses and even condos with limited
outdoor/garden space. Composting allows you more room in your
garbage cans and saves you money down the road on fertilizer.
With
a handful of grass clippings, a good amount of leaf fiber
or shredded paper, and a continual supply of organic plant
waste, anyone can compost.
Disclaimer:
Throughout this website, statements are made pertaining to the properties and/or
functions of food and/or nutritional products. These statements have not been
evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration and these materials and products
are not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease.