composter
I'm beginning to figure out why I have such a hard time starting things. My problem is that I get overwhelmed by my own inability to fully grasp the intricacies of a topic or a task, and give up before I start. Voting. Eating in a way that honors God's creation. Switching to natural health and cleaning products. Making medical decisions. Arts and crafts. If I can't dive in with a high sense of informed competency at the beginning, I don't even want to test the waters.
(I know this sounds like perfectionism, but I don't think that's exactly it. I am too lazy to care much about being perfect, but I do have to feel competent and confident that I'll have some level of success.)
I started getting more adventurous when I was pregnant with Rosie and began sewing. I tried things even when I wasn't sure they would work. I made things up, and worked without a pattern. I allowed myself to see failure as an acceptable outcome. I let myself play at things instead of perfect them.
I've tried to adopt that attitude in other areas of my life, too. For example, even though I haven't mastered the facts on fish (which have high mercury levels, which to buy farmed, which to buy wild, which are in danger from overfishing, etc.), I try to absorb a little bit of knowledge at a time, and if I can't always be sure I'm making a responsible decision, I just make one anyway. Give myself some grace on it.
This is the approach I'm taking to composting this spring. I've skimmed the book I got for Christmas, and i have realized there are a thousand different methods and a million things to know. My options are deeply limited right now, since we will likely move mid-summer, so I'm just going to play at composting and see what happens.
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So this is the ceramic crock I got at the Goodwill and keep by my sink for kitchen scraps.
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And this is the compost tumbler that my clever husband built for me. (Inspiration here.). He bolted two plastic tubs together, drilled holes in the ends, and ran a steel pipe through it. Then he cut a door flap, hinged it, and added a hook and latch closure. He drilled another half dozen holes for air flow, too.
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When I have a full pot of kitchen compost, I drop it through the door along with a couple handfuls of dead leaves or twigs. Every now and then, I spin the bin to mix the contents.
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I don't know if the proportions of materials I'm adding will be right. I don't know if the moisture level is exactly where it should be. I don't know how long this cold (not hot and not worm) method of compost will take. I don't know if the bin will get too heavy to move to our next home.
But that's ok. I'm just playing. I'm just giving it a try. Why did it take me so long to get here?