Compost, at last

For years, it seems, we've been tipping kitchen waste into our two compost bins, but very little compost has emerged.  This has mostly been because of lack of time to empty them out.  I have wondered if 
the bins have Tardis-like properties.

At last on Sunday we got round to emptying one of the bins and relocating it round to the shady side of the shed.  The spot where we plonked the bins when we took on the plot turns out to be the corner which gets the last of the afternoon sun once the rest of the plot is in shade.  Far too valuable to waste on compost!

The contents have composted down nicely, except for the supposedly compostable bin liners.  These resembled nothing more than supermarket carrier bags, even after several years.  I've resolved not to waste any more money on them, but to line the kitchen waste bin with newspaper instead.

When it came to spreading the compost over freshly dug beds, I discovered that a lot of compost goes a little way.  Still, it feels good to have fed the soil more than we've been able to do so far.
 

Compost activity

This is what happens when you leave a compost bin undisturbed for several weeks. Ants and their eggs. Boy did they move when we opened the lid. Eggs were grabbed and hurried off to safety.

We're curious to see what we'll find tomorrow when we take the compost bucket along.

And at some point we must get round to using some of the compost. It's very strange - the compost bins seem to have become self-contained entities. We add stuff, stir it around occasionally, add some more, but the connection between finished compost and spreading it on the plot seems to have got lost somewhere. Does anyone else have this experience, or all you all growing super veg as a result of your frequent compost spreading?

Edited to add that we're off on hols - exchanging damp and lush Scotland for hot and dry France. I intend to visit a few gardens while we're there. My husband doesn't know this yet.

The Heap (or, Ethical Dilemma)

The last real work done at the allotment was way back in mid December, on a day of fog and damp. Then after a month's gap I visited briefly a couple of weekends ago and that will have to do for the next few weeks while other parts of life have to be attended to. But all the while I've been looking forward to working on the next stage of dismantling The Heap, the huge weed pile that we inherited with the plot and have only added to over the years.

Removal of The Heap has been a problem. There is no communal green waste facility at our site, unlike other sites in the city. The large waste container is explicitly NOT for green waste. We don't burn our weeds, as we suffer at home from the acrid smoke blowing from a neighbouring allotment site. Some plotholders seem to regard a smoking bonfire as a necessary part of every visit, even tho the waste is too green ever to produce flame. Contrary to site regulations (oh yes, I know these regulations by heart!) they leave the heaps smouldering when they go home at the end of their stint. It's a real nuisance for those of us who live beside allotment sites. Smouldering bonfires mean having to take in washing hanging on the line, unless of course you like the tang of smoke in all your clothes.

So how to free up the ground occupied by The Heap, which would give us half a bed more of growing space? An appeal to the Council's allotments officer brought the concession that we could relocate green waste to marginal woodland ground at the borders of the site. Great, we thought. We'll do it slowly and spread it well around so that it doesn't impact too much on the existing grass. However, we've not been the only ones with the same problem, and not the only ones offered the same solution. During the autumn we noticed that there was wholescale dumping going on in the woodland ground, not just of green waste (of which there were mini Himalayas building up), but also of unwanted wood, brick and corraugated iron. We could either hold back on our green waste disposal while everyone else piled in, or get a move on. Civic togetherness is not a particular feature of our site, so we didn't hold out much hope for a reasoned, let's work this problem out together approach.

Hence my stint of moving the growing part of The Heap while permission to relocate was still available. Sometimes I feel I should have been a bit more principled, and held off while the issue was sorted out. Mostly I feel that I was doing what I had permission to do, and doing it properly. All the same, I didn't expect to face ethical dilemmas over a compost heap.

The photo at the top of this post shows The Heap after a couple of hours' work. Last April, before we'd done any relocation, it stood tall and proud. Over the course of the summer, before we stopped adding weeds, it began to bulge out from its iron walls.


Here it is once scalped:


A pleasant surprise was the cache of Charlotte potatoes, probably grown from a potato I'd thought too small to be worth taking home.


Now 'all' that remains to be done is to sieve out the residual couch grass roots from the rich, crumbly compost and spread it over the beds. I'm keen to get on with it, and to return this part of the plot to growing something other than weeds and a few rogue potatoes.

Free

The word that gladdens the Scottish heart. Although I dislike the Starbuckification of every street corner in Edinburgh, I'm not above taking one of their free bags of used coffee grounds when one of my children (usually my daughter) drags me in for a hot chocolate milano for her and a chai latte for me (tho yesterday I cracked and had a hot chocolate).

Result: gloriously coffee-scented compost bin.

Progress

It's wonderful what can happen when you're not looking. After another busy-busy two weeks, during which we've been away for Easter, the garlic has not only sprouted but is well up, and the shallots are beginning to pull away.

I had a hard-working session at the plot on Tuesday, my last day of holiday before the office swallowed me again. My order of onions, 'New Fen Globe' arrived just before we went away on holiday, and were overdue for planting out. The lovely thing about planting onions, and shallots and garlic too, is just being able to push them into the soil. Easy! So I popped in four rows of onions, quick as you like.

Although the weather has taken a milder turn (tho not today), the plot wasn't covered in a fine green fuzz of weeds as I'd expected. Instead of weed-busting I was able to sow some salads: corn salad 'Vit', lettuce 'Romana Bionda Degli Ortolani' (that rather rolls off the tongue in an impressive Italian way), lettuce 'Quattro Stagioni', and spinach 'Hector'. I love corn salad (or lamb's lettuce, or mache), but I find it very challenging to grow. It rarely germinates well, so this year I'm sowing earlier in case our fierce Scottish summers (!) are to blame.

The purple sprouting broccoli is having a last, pigeon-free flourish:


The blackcurrant bushes are in flower:


And I even managed to turn some compost. This one of those shots where you realise afterwards just how...weird this photo-blogging lark is, when you eagerly snap the contents of your compost bin. But it IS interesting! Look - here are the remains of the beautiful Mother's Day flowers I received, along with wee matchstick things which my son contributed from his mega bedroom tidying operation brought about by having new carpet laid. The sticks are from one of those kits which are meant to be good presents for 10 year old boys - 'Build the Taj Mahal from matchsticks - hours of fun!' Eight years later the Taj Mahal is still unbuilt, but the wee sticks will do just fine as woody content for the compost bin.