blog sparked debate amongst my friends and family. Friends complained. "If you can raise hens, why not vegetables?" Many of them offered to help, even, in exchange for picking their way through my garden patch.
My Aunt Becky reminded me that it's in my genes to be a farmer. "Your grandfather raised chickens, had thriving vegetable and flower gardens, and helped his community plant Victory Gardens after the second World War." That was the most compelling argument. And so, despite my best efforts to embrace simple living, or maybe because of this ambition, gardening is back on the menu.
To ease initial distress over the prospect of adding to my bailiwick, I signed up for a series of Saturday morning workshops with the Fairfield Organic Teaching Farm, the first of which was on composting, that I attended yesterday. I anticipated that I would be nestled among would-be horticulturalists, like myself, learning how to rotate one of those big, black, plastic drums in my back yard. Mistakenly, I believed that all I had to do was shell out a hundred bucks for one of those drums, throw stuff in it, and let it "cook" under the sun's rays. Not even close. Instead, I sat with chemistry savvy, experienced gardeners (there might have been newbies mixed in, but they remained quiet... probably wishing to remain invisible, like me).
I was dazzled by the speaker, Nick Mancini, Certified Master Gardener and teacher extraordinaire, and even more impressed with the knowledge everyone (except me) seemed to possess about composting already. And what I went home with? Worms. A large, brown bin of worms, with a starter compost mixture of shredded paper, cardboard, and left over vegetable and fruit scraps from Mancini's fridge, along with a toss of oyster shells and soybean meal. This was intended as a prize for a raffle I had "won." Oh dear.
Making a Red Wiggler Wormery and Sniffing Worm "Tea"