During the halcyon days of my youth I gardened in balmy Victoria, where composting outside was a given. Sure, we had a few frozen periods but mostly the weather cooperated while I blithely tossed my vegetable scraps onto the heap as all the experts recommended.
“Composting is at the heart of organic gardening,” they assured me, and who was I to disagree with the wisdom of the experienced? Over time I got used to keeping foodstuffs separate from real garbage to rebuild my soil.
Then we moved up to Mesachie, where we actually get winter and my easy composting life ended. We kept the compost bin near the house, made it fairly varmint proof and put the lids on at a slant so snow would slip off, or at least that was the plan. I began to dread taking out the compost as snow accumulated on the top, melted and froze again until every time I went to add more kitchen scraps I had to chop off frozen snow before I could lift up the heavy lid. Naturally the hinges gave way but I persisted because I didn’t want to throw good vegetable scraps into the garbage. I was, after all, an organic gardener who had learned about the Indore method practiced in India. Warm, tropical India.
I began stockpiling kitchen scraps in various containers, avoiding the inevitable trip outside while David tripped over the various containers blocking the door. Then I made a simpler heap without a lid for winter, which might have worked well if varmints hadn’t jumped on the wire mesh holding the heap together to pull out all the compost. Mice and rats, which would no doubt have made a home in the pile, chose instead to move into the more attractive pantry in the basement. Mind you, indoor rodents become David’s responsibility, as the cat cannot be relied on. Neither likes the challenge, but the cat at least complains quietly.
It occurred to me two years ago that I could set up a worm composting bin inside and not have to face a freezing gale every time I took out the compost. I didn’t want to use any of the plastic models I saw advertised, because years ago a professor at UVic had her students bring in all varieties of water bottled in plastic to analyze the contents and compare that to tap water; only one variety equalled Victoria’s tap water and that was from a local supplier, because chemicals or microplastics had leeched into the water from the “food grade” bottles. Also, I’ve seen what heating has done to Teflon cookware, and where does the worn-off Teflon go?
So I’m not buying a plastic worm bin. Besides, the worms produce a liquid that gathers into a bottom tray that attracts fruit flies, and we have enough in the house already. I decided that compost would have to accumulate outside.
Since David had a lovely greenhouse built, I thought I’d set up a compost heap in there. It could accomplish several things: it wouldn’t need a cover, I would remain dry and relatively warm while adding compost, heat generated by the decaying matter would be good for the unheated greenhouse and varmints would have a hard time getting into the closed greenhouse. It’s a fourfer!
I’m keeping spent vines in a pile beside the heap to toss onto vegetable scraps as I add them. A professional gardener in Manitoba told me that it is important to block up every crack in the greenhouse to keep the heat in. Mongolian farmers cover their greenhouses at night with woven grass mats for insulation but I haven’t got that far, yet. Perhaps I can convince David he wants to learn weaving.
Please contact mary_lowther@yahoo.ca with questions and suggestions since I need all the help I can get.
