Compost Happens: A Misadventure of Garlic

For years we composted and then Mr.P. begged me to stop vegetable gardening for several reasons but the biggie was the deer eating everything--major frustration. We had inherited our garden site when we bought the lake house (yes, we live on a lake in the mountains). I had upgraded the plot somewhat but it was still pretty unsightly, ratty looking chain link fence for example. So I dismantled the garden which also meant the compost bin. However, I still yearned to grow food and started container gardening on the balcony--OK deer if you can make it up here have at it. After a year or two of experimentation I have started raising serious food. This year I have 5 gallon zip lock bags in the freezer of chopped red and green peppers from only 4 plants. As I chopped I resented all that lovely green and red veg material going into the garbage. So I asked Mr.P. for a new compost bin for our twentieth anniversary. As per usual the dear sweet man jumped right on it and without telling me had ordered this truly attractive wood compost bin that I had selected from Gardener's Supply (http://www.gardeners.com/) one of my fav spots to acquire garden must haves. The composter looks like a little hut with access doors at the bottom and a sloped curved roof covered in sheet metal. acre Of course, it had to be assembled and placed. With no flat spot on our acre except for man made I placed pavers over mulch paper in a raised bed between two large ornamental grasses and put red lava rock around it. Mr.P. thought it looked awesome "It looks like it was made for that place." Next steps we got the counter top compost container and the biodegradable bags. By this time Mr.P. is getting totally into this. He becomes the chief take out the compost dude.

OK so where is the misadventure. Wednesday I came home from the office wondering what the hell to fix for dinner. After 40 some years of cooking, figuring out dinner every night becomes a true pain. I settled on pasta putanesca with onions, baby bellas, and baby spinach made with whole grain linguine. I reach for a bulb of garlic from my garlic bowl. NONE. I look around. Where did I put them. Did they get into the pantry? No. Frig? No. OK.
"SWEETHEART?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you seen the garlic?"
"No."
"Where could it have gone, it was right here in the bowl?"
"Oh. That stuff. I put it in the compost?"
"What?"
"Yeah"
"Ah--it was my garlic."
"Oh. I'm sorry. I thought it was shriveled onions."
"Maybe I can get it out."
"No. I already threw the coffee grounds in and took it out"
Don't you just love him. I do.
Hey. Have you pledged $10 to help Haiti yet. You know they need you.