Back Yard Bettering

In the interest of reviving this sad, neglected blog, I'm going to tell you about our super-productive week-end. Complete with pictures even!

Before getting into the productive stuff though, check out the boys' new toys. Their Grandpa Mac, who they lovingly call MAC!, brought these for them a few visits ago. They've been through each of his grandchildren and now it's the boys' turn to try to destroy them. Yay!


They're learning words like "gear shift" and "steering wheel" and "horn" thanks to this car. They love that horn.


Ok, back to the productive bit...

I've been in a crunchy kind of mood lately. And when I'm in a crunchy mood, Greg gets worried. It inevitably means he'll be roped into crunchy diy projects, projects like starting our own composting heap! Oh yes.

My grandpa used to compost. He'd dig a big ol' hole in the ground of his lush backyard and bury left-over food scraps in there. When it was full, he'd fill it in and dig another one. Since our backyard seems to consist of mostly rock covered with a smattering of dirt, we have to devise other means of crunchification.

After doing a bit of reading on the interwebz, I came across a remarkably simple set of instructions that involve a 30+ gallon trash can with lid ($15 at Lowes), a handsaw or serrated knife or strong pair of scissors and a drill. Oh! And a husband willing to manhandle all of these things so my nails remain intact.

First, use that handsaw/knife/scissors to cut the bottom off of the trash can.

Joseph, ever the helpful little guy, directing Daddy in his work

Luke, who is kinda in love with that swing, swinging

Back to little boy cuteness...

Gosh, being a mom is distracting.

Ok, back to productivity...

Next, take that drill and poke many, little holes all throughout the trash can to allow air flow through your compost heap.

Bored of helping Daddy so it's time for a few laps around the yard.
I love, love, love that look of determination on his face.

Luke, showing me his battle scars
Poor guy did a back flip off a ramp at our local garden center.
He landed on his face.
It was not pretty.
The battle scars, not his face. His face is always pretty.

This is why we were at the garden center.
2 tomatoes, squash, bell pepper, rosemary & parsley
Me = excited

Next day (because when you have twin toddlers, things always take 300% longer than you think they should)...

Dude. You missed a spot.

Yeah, Dad. HUGE hole. Right there. Between your legs.

::grumble, grumble::tyrants::grumble, grumble::composting::grumble, grumble::football...

In a few short hours (spread over a couple of days) Greg graciously finished the composting bin, and now it lives behind our storage shed.

We added leaves, some grass clippings, a bit of old potting soil and our first table scraps. Then we hosed it down a bit because it should be slightly moist (like a squeezed-out sponge), and we'll turn the pile to mix everything up at least once a month. (Table scraps should always be buried in the mix to minimize bugs.) And in 6-8 months, we should have a nice bit of compost to spread around our yard.


Delayed gratification? Yes, but I'm still happy we finally started doing something. Ideally, I'd like to have a few more of these to help deal with all the yard trimmings and autumn leaves that we obviously never bothered to rake, but we can see how this goes first.


Oh, and this is the reason we planted our container garden on Saturday night after the boys had gone to bed.

Dirt! YES!!!

Ok, Dad, now what are you going to do about this overrun containing wall?

From the mouths of babes, right?


The boys are 21-ish months old.