The Mother of All composters

Meanwhile, back on the farm...

I've wanted a composter forever.  Last year the compost was a heap of 'schtuff (and all of the evil leftover straw) at the end of one of the garden beds.  It was only partially decomposed at the beginning of this growing season, but I distributed it among the different beds anyway, and vowed that we would do it 'right' this year.

This of course meant begging my husband to build a proper compost bin (which doesn't really require begging - he loves any excuse to use power tools).  We had differing ideas about how elaborate we wanted the construction to be. 

This was mine:

This was his:



The man with the tools wins.  Which I suppose is fair, because he is the one building it.  We brought home the goods and he built it, I stained it.

I didn't know we were getting a two-fer - a composter AND a tornado shelter!

Friends joked that we now had a kid organizer.  We even added lids per Shawn's idea that we should keep them organized AND contained.  Yes.  Good idea.  But then I filled it with 'schtuff anyway and got the heap going.  I'll turn it into the next bin come fall and start another heap next spring.  So nice to have a place for scraps  - away from the garden and the house, so the flies, mice and snakes can have their heyday and not bother me.  Thank you honey!!!!