Friday, October 28, 2011


I finally gave up.  After, what?, six months? of struggle, more than sixty dollars of worms, several re-engineering attempts by the resident infrastructure specialist, multiple calls to metro and other "experts", and ever so many newspapers and shredded seed catalogs... I dug up the whole stinky slimy mess and put it in a hole in the dirt behind the garage.  With an ever-growing cap of yard waste and soggy straw, I am pretending it is a compost pile.  I wish that we were going to say goodbye completely to this experiment.  I want my plywood worm box back.  I want what, in my mind, never failed.  But for Jeff, that box did fail, by rotting out (after years of productivity) and letting the rats in.  And I have to respect his feeling for materials, as he must respect my love of plants.  So, for a while I will - gratefully - put our food waste into the green rolling can and - gratefully - take it to the curb each week.  And eventually, he will fix it.  He always does.

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