I'm serious about compost. At the rear corner is the start of this fall's compost pile. In the middle are almost a hundred bags of leaves. By late spring, they will have partially broken down, making wonderful mulch. Front pile is last year's compost production. I do not turn the piles -- what's the rush? The garden clipping pile is finished in a year and the leaves only pile is ready after six months (leaves must be moist).
No room on the doorstep for a monster? How about a miniature about the size of a golf ball? Except it's not a pumpkin. They’re a plant in the nightshade family — same as potatoes and tomatoes.
They’ve been called mock tomato, ornamental eggplant, pumpkin bush, and my favourite, pumpkin on a stick.
Solanum Integrifolium is the botanical name and it’s native to
South East Asia.
|Compost in my garden happening.|
There must have been thousands of books, articles, and videos produced on how to make compost. You'd think it was a complex esoteric process. It's not.
Here is the simple truth about composting -- compost happens! It's been happening for billions of years.
No additives, complicated machinery or electrical device is necessary for compost to happen, and if it promises to produce compost in only two weeks, save your money.
|Compost happened (screened)|
Like, what is the rush? Nature makes wonderful compost without spending money or making any effort.
This cool and cloudy spring has been lovely for spring flowers. Even in May, there's often a blast of summer that blows the tops off the tulips and has the daffodils mourning. But not this year. This is a quick shot of Narcissus 'Ice King' and it looks good enough to eat -- not a good idea.
|Sophie and Coreopsis 'Route 66'|
It's been on my bucket list ever since I learned of it — Route 66 the highway, not the plant — although I think I will try the plant in one of my old galvanized pails this year.