Walking the Walk

Oh, werd?
Okay locavores.... how many of you are living with piles of compost in your kitchen right now?
Here's the situation (no, not *that* Situation, but he could help shovel out our compost if he wants): At the same time that Eric and I plant our seeds every year, we go through a ritual of urban gardening that is kind of like the opposite of spring cleaning. Before we plant our seedlings in May, we will turn over our winter rye cover crop and mix in the previous year's compost. The problem is that we don't want huge chunks of swiss chard stalk or coffee filters that we put in the bin yesterday to end up in the garden, sooooo every year in late March we stop putting vegetable matter into the compost bin for about six weeks.
But don't worry my left-leaning friends, we would not dare to waste six weeks' worth of tomato butts, rotting lettuce, fair trade tea bags, and beer-brewing leftovers. No no. We store them somewhere else. But where?
Well, last spring, we tried throwing them into a paper leaf bag in the backyard. Turns out, that's a great way to get giant raccoons to greet you when you try to show your friends your cool garden by moonlight. ("There's some kind of monster in your tree!")
This year we began storing our compost in a tub in the fridge... And then another tub... And then a bag on the counter... And then on top of the coffee maker... You get the idea. Six weeks' worth of compost is a lot!

Eric: The lettuce you just bought looks a little off. We should hurry up and use it before we start the new head.
KPd.: That's the compost.
Eric: Oh.

So, if you are visiting me in the month of April (Brian), don't look around the kitchen for a late night snack without a jungle guide. But just think, when you eat a pesto or a fresh tomato sauce from our garden now, it's kind of like you are eating last year's compost!