My husband and I grew up with gardens. Both my father-in-law and my Dad were known in their respective neighborhoods for the grand, bountiful gardens. So it was it only made sense that Billy and I would eventually have a garden to tend. We started out small. Our “Poolside Garden” lined the back fence of our pool. Tomatoes and eggplant became the backdrop for poolside shenanigans. A few years later, after carefully studying the angle of the sun in our backyard, we moved the garden to side of the yard. Billy built raised beds, we got loom from a local nursery and planted. Tomatoes and eggplant and zucchini were our bounty. Now, our garden sits in the back of the yard. It has grown to 15 raised beds. Tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, beets, potatoes, kale, spinach, lettuce, and green beans are ours to harvest.
With all that harvesting, comes a lot of scraps. Over the years, there’s been many a stinky garbage that had to be brought out to the trash. But that is no longer. Beside that 15 bed garden sits a makeshift compost square. Billy’s used some old metal shelves and some fencing to contain our “simmering scraps”. On our counter is a little bowl that we fill every day with coffee grinds, banana peels, grapefruit rinds and whatever scraps we deem compostable. This time of year, it’s one trip a day to the compost square to empty the little compost bowl. Over the summer, our little bowl gets emptied multiple times.
There’s something satisfying about not only tending to your own garden but tending to your own soil that will feed our future.
ps My mind is spinning with an analogy to teaching children over time but, alas, I started this slice too late…