So everybody got pretty excited last week about a big black glob floating out in the Chukchi Sea. If you didn't read the article, here it is: http://www.adn.com/2835/story/864687.html No one had seen this type of thing before. Wainwright hunters called it "thick, dark and gooey."
Had my 5 year old niece been there, she could have told them what it was. While she was visiting, it was her job to clean that "thick, dark and gooey" stuff out of the fish pond. She put her little hand into the water and started pulling---kind of like mozarella cheese after a bite of pizza. It pulls and pulls until it finally lets go and you have a fist full of algae, which we put on the other garden plants for a little organic fertilizer.
So the questions that everyone is asking are: why was there 15 miles of it and why had no one seen it before? I can only tell you my experience. When my pond is getting too much sun, it grows like crazy. It would fill up the whole pond if I would let it. In fact, I think it kept my fish warm during the winter last year, because they snuggled right down into it. So what do I do about too much algae? Duckweed. I cover my pond with a weed that floats on top of the water and blocks the sun from getting to the algae.
So my solution for the Arctic Ocean warming and the increase of this filamentous algae is duckweed. Duckweed is the solution, since there isn't any ice to cover the surface of the ocean any more. One problem though. Duckweed doubles in size every 48 hours or so. At my house, we dip out the duckweed and feed it to the worms---who love it. Recently my husband decided that there has to be another solution. He found a recipe on-line for duckweed soup*. You mix it with broccoli so that you can't tell which is duckweed and which is broccoli, I suppose. Anyway, the health benefits of duckweed soup is that it prevents farting!
Now there's a green alternative. Put duckweed in the Arctic Ocean and then harvest it and ship it to the cows. The cows will eat it and will, in turn, stop farting their methane gasses into the atmosphere. See? I have it all solved! :-)
*If anyone out there has actually tried duckweed soup, please let me know! :-)
Monday, July 20, 2009
Fresh pee?
Okay, so it didn't work. How would anybody ever have known? But I had to try it.
I had weeds at the bottom of my garden. What to do? I knew if I mowed it, it would just turn to grass. I don't want grass to take care of. So last summer I tried vinegar. That just slowed those tough ol' weeds down, but didn't really phase 'em. Everywhere I turned for help, they just told me to use poison to kill them. Poison? That was not what I wanted on my property and leaking into the ground water. So I had just the thing: Pee. I knew from experience in our last house that when my dog peed on the grass, the grass died in perfect round circles creating a psychodelic grass pattern in the yard. If it worked for dog pee, why not try ours? It just so happens that I have a 5 gallon bucket in the basement that collects our pee and then runs into the forest. Why not take that free pesticide and pour it on the weeds at the bottom of the garden?
It was a nasty smell as I brought the 5 gallon bucket outside into the air. My sister and nieces were there to bear witness, but soon disappeared inside the house holding their noses and screaming! Since I wanted the 5 gallons to reach the most possible weeds, I thought it necessary to dip the pee out of the bucket and put it into the water can. Now that was almost more than even my nostrils could bear. But I continued on my mission! Water can after water can, I spread that pee out. Now my witnesses were on the upper deck trying to tell me---with their noses plugged---that I've stunk up the whole neighborhood and that we were surely going to have bears coming to smell the curious new oder. I just assured them that this was my way of marking our territory and now they would know not to come around.
When I was finally done, I stood back to admire my work and to watch the weeds die---especially where I dumped the dregs. Did you know that if you let pee sit long enough it turns into a white globby geletin? It was gross.
Well, it's been two weeks. Nothing. Not even a dead leaf. The clovers have taken over. The grass is growing better than ever. There are even flowers growing there now. So what went wrong? I went to my book (yes, that's a real book) and I learned something I wish I would have remembered the first time I read the book: urine looses its acidity the longer it sits. So how long had it taken us to fill that 5 gallon bucket? Must have been months----long enough for that pee to turn into fertilizer, 'cause I have the prettiest patch of grass/weeds in all of Eagle River.
I had weeds at the bottom of my garden. What to do? I knew if I mowed it, it would just turn to grass. I don't want grass to take care of. So last summer I tried vinegar. That just slowed those tough ol' weeds down, but didn't really phase 'em. Everywhere I turned for help, they just told me to use poison to kill them. Poison? That was not what I wanted on my property and leaking into the ground water. So I had just the thing: Pee. I knew from experience in our last house that when my dog peed on the grass, the grass died in perfect round circles creating a psychodelic grass pattern in the yard. If it worked for dog pee, why not try ours? It just so happens that I have a 5 gallon bucket in the basement that collects our pee and then runs into the forest. Why not take that free pesticide and pour it on the weeds at the bottom of the garden?
It was a nasty smell as I brought the 5 gallon bucket outside into the air. My sister and nieces were there to bear witness, but soon disappeared inside the house holding their noses and screaming! Since I wanted the 5 gallons to reach the most possible weeds, I thought it necessary to dip the pee out of the bucket and put it into the water can. Now that was almost more than even my nostrils could bear. But I continued on my mission! Water can after water can, I spread that pee out. Now my witnesses were on the upper deck trying to tell me---with their noses plugged---that I've stunk up the whole neighborhood and that we were surely going to have bears coming to smell the curious new oder. I just assured them that this was my way of marking our territory and now they would know not to come around.
When I was finally done, I stood back to admire my work and to watch the weeds die---especially where I dumped the dregs. Did you know that if you let pee sit long enough it turns into a white globby geletin? It was gross.
Well, it's been two weeks. Nothing. Not even a dead leaf. The clovers have taken over. The grass is growing better than ever. There are even flowers growing there now. So what went wrong? I went to my book
Thursday, June 18, 2009
My sister is here to visit
It started off as a simple trip to the grocery store. I tucked my recycled grocery bags under my arm and caught up to the gang: Sandee, Layni and Kylee. It all looked good going down the first aisle, which was the bread aisle. I didn’t get any complaints about the bread---it had to say “made in Alaska” on it. But then we started down every aisle. Everyone knows you don’t walk down every aisle of the grocery store, there are too many traps and temptations. I tried to guide them to the frozen vegetables, but they didn’t like any of those. They paused at the junk food, but I just shook my head and herded them around the corner.
I started heading to the produced section, but I looked back and they were in the candy aisle. I rolled my eyes and went back to get them. I saw some cookies and yogurt covered raisins fall into the cart and then some crackers. “Okay, enough,” I urged. Then came the cereal aisle. OMG! Just like all the marketers plan, both kids gravitated to the sweetest, unhealthiest, teeth-rotting crap on the bottom. I said, “You can only get cereals from the top shelf.” They grudgingly chose one and moved on. Kylee cried to go back, but luckily they didn’t stop.
Sandee stopped in the instant food aisle. I snatched the instant potatoes out of the cart. I looked at the ingredients. The first ingredient was potatoes, but the second was partially hydrogenated soybean oil. “You’re going to die of a heart attack,” I said. She rolled her eyes at me and went to the very top shelf where the Good Earth Instant Potatoes were. I checked the ingredients and I could pronounce every one of them. I approved her instant potatoes and we were off again.
On to the health food aisle. I said, “This is where you can shop because you don’t have to read all the labels.” Sandee picked up Peanut Butter Poppers cereal. I looked at the label, and sure enough, there was no high fructose corn syrup or partially hydrogenated soybean oil in it. I agreed that Layni could have it. But Layni looked at it and said, “I don’t want that, I’ve never heard of it before. I’ve never seen an advertisement for it, so I’m not getting it.” And there it sat. Back on the shelf.
I threw in some coffee. Sandee said, “What’s that?” I said it was fairly traded coffee beans and she rolled her eyes. On to the produce aisle. They got some grapes. I got lettuce, cabbage, and other good stuff.
We strolled up to the counter to pay and Sandee shooed me away as she unloaded the cart. I looked at her, “You snuck stuff, didn’t you!” She just told me to get out of her way. At lunch there was a snack pack lunchable for Kylee (how much packaging that wasted!) There were individually wrapped fortune cookies. There was even Applesauce in individual plastic cups instead of a big glass jar. I guess the next time we go, I’ll have to teach them about packaging. High fructose corn syrup and partially hydrogenated soybean oil was a big enough lesson for today.
Layni says, “Let’s go to McDonald’s for lunch.” I reply, “We only eat at locally owned restaurants.” She says, “What’s that?”
So many lessons, so little time! ☺
PS For my sister's version of the trip to the store, see: itsashambles.blogspot.com
I started heading to the produced section, but I looked back and they were in the candy aisle. I rolled my eyes and went back to get them. I saw some cookies and yogurt covered raisins fall into the cart and then some crackers. “Okay, enough,” I urged. Then came the cereal aisle. OMG! Just like all the marketers plan, both kids gravitated to the sweetest, unhealthiest, teeth-rotting crap on the bottom. I said, “You can only get cereals from the top shelf.” They grudgingly chose one and moved on. Kylee cried to go back, but luckily they didn’t stop.
Sandee stopped in the instant food aisle. I snatched the instant potatoes out of the cart. I looked at the ingredients. The first ingredient was potatoes, but the second was partially hydrogenated soybean oil. “You’re going to die of a heart attack,” I said. She rolled her eyes at me and went to the very top shelf where the Good Earth Instant Potatoes were. I checked the ingredients and I could pronounce every one of them. I approved her instant potatoes and we were off again.
On to the health food aisle. I said, “This is where you can shop because you don’t have to read all the labels.” Sandee picked up Peanut Butter Poppers cereal. I looked at the label, and sure enough, there was no high fructose corn syrup or partially hydrogenated soybean oil in it. I agreed that Layni could have it. But Layni looked at it and said, “I don’t want that, I’ve never heard of it before. I’ve never seen an advertisement for it, so I’m not getting it.” And there it sat. Back on the shelf.
I threw in some coffee. Sandee said, “What’s that?” I said it was fairly traded coffee beans and she rolled her eyes. On to the produce aisle. They got some grapes. I got lettuce, cabbage, and other good stuff.
We strolled up to the counter to pay and Sandee shooed me away as she unloaded the cart. I looked at her, “You snuck stuff, didn’t you!” She just told me to get out of her way. At lunch there was a snack pack lunchable for Kylee (how much packaging that wasted!) There were individually wrapped fortune cookies. There was even Applesauce in individual plastic cups instead of a big glass jar. I guess the next time we go, I’ll have to teach them about packaging. High fructose corn syrup and partially hydrogenated soybean oil was a big enough lesson for today.
Layni says, “Let’s go to McDonald’s for lunch.” I reply, “We only eat at locally owned restaurants.” She says, “What’s that?”
So many lessons, so little time! ☺
PS For my sister's version of the trip to the store, see: itsashambles.blogspot.com
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Sure, I knew this house was going to be extra work, but the problem is you never know when that extra work is going to occur. Thursday night after a long day with 8th graders on a field trip, my husband invites me to a movie and dinner. Nice, right? Afterwards, I stop at the grocery store and he stops over at the neighbor's house, so that we arrive home for the day at about 9:00 pm.
I'm dragging the groceries up the stairs planning on getting in my jammies, checking my email, and relaxing. I open the door and hear this awful sound coming from the kitchen. It wasn't a broken dishwasher. I realize the sound is coming from downstairs. I drop the groceries and head to the basement. The sound is deafening and I look around to see how to stop it. I find a light switch and turn it off. The water pump stops. The noise stops.
I look around and see water all over the basement floor: all under the worm farm, soaking into the bag of sphagum moss, flowing under the toilet barrels. I'm starting to unravel the problem. The hose that is supposed to be running into the cistern is out on the floor, not pumping into the cistern. That stupid hose never stays where it is supposed to stay.
I run upstairs and check the garden hose in the solarium. It's off, but the cement is wet under it. And then I realize what must have happened. I glance down to the lower pond and, sure enough, the lower pond is over its banks. I remembered.
We had left the water running into the lower pond the night before. It had been a little low. Arrggg! So all night, all day----24 hours the water had been running from the hose and into the water, ever so quietly. If only the green hose had stayed in the cistern, we would have recovered the water. But no.
Curt walks in and I tell him what must have happened. He turns on the kitchen faucet and there is no water. We had drained our cistern dry. It is 9pm. I am so tired and sweaty, I don't want to do what I knew needed to be done, get water.
I gather the electric cords, Curt uncoils the garden hose and we go outside and down to the lower cistern. We haven't opened it all winter and when Curt pulls the door open, the door falls off its hinge. I roll my eyes. Curt opens the hatch in the floor to the cistern. There is 8 inches of ice on the top of the water. I start thinking I may have to dip water out of the fish pond for a shower! We start the pump, but nothing comes out, the hose is frozen into the ice. Time for some McGiver moves.
I pick up an old garden hose with an end cut off. Curt thinks he can use it. He takes the other frozen hose off and forces the piece of garden hose on. With skill he finds just enough of a break in the ice, he squeezes the hose through. Success. He turns the pump on again and I see water pumping out into the driveway. Yippee!
I run to catch it and attach it to the curly hose going into the house's cistern. That is cold water! Curt comes up behind me and we both try to connect the two hoses. Water starts flying everywhere. We are soaked. I wonder what the neighbors think of all our screaming and panting! We realize we have to shut off the water. We can't connect the hoses mid stream. Curt runs back down the hill and shuts off the pump. I screw the hoses together and then I shout for him to try it. (We didn't think we could make the water flow up the mountain that far. We thought we were going to have to take all the hose back down the mountain and get it running first.) It's working! The water starts filling the house's cistern.
We come in and check our email and wait. About 10:30 Curt goes to check to see how deep the water is. He guesses about 8 inches. He flips on the house's water pump switch. The pump starts pumping that same ugly sound. Curt let it pump. He comes upstairs. He turns on the faucet. Drum roll please. . . . . . . .
There is water! Ahhhh. A shower! I'm in bed by 11:00pm!
We figure we lost about 30 days worth of water in one day. Luckily it was spring and we had more water. But we have to make sure we don't make THAT mistake again. All faucets off before you go to bed.
I'm dragging the groceries up the stairs planning on getting in my jammies, checking my email, and relaxing. I open the door and hear this awful sound coming from the kitchen. It wasn't a broken dishwasher. I realize the sound is coming from downstairs. I drop the groceries and head to the basement. The sound is deafening and I look around to see how to stop it. I find a light switch and turn it off. The water pump stops. The noise stops.
I look around and see water all over the basement floor: all under the worm farm, soaking into the bag of sphagum moss, flowing under the toilet barrels. I'm starting to unravel the problem. The hose that is supposed to be running into the cistern is out on the floor, not pumping into the cistern. That stupid hose never stays where it is supposed to stay.
I run upstairs and check the garden hose in the solarium. It's off, but the cement is wet under it. And then I realize what must have happened. I glance down to the lower pond and, sure enough, the lower pond is over its banks. I remembered.
We had left the water running into the lower pond the night before. It had been a little low. Arrggg! So all night, all day----24 hours the water had been running from the hose and into the water, ever so quietly. If only the green hose had stayed in the cistern, we would have recovered the water. But no.
Curt walks in and I tell him what must have happened. He turns on the kitchen faucet and there is no water. We had drained our cistern dry. It is 9pm. I am so tired and sweaty, I don't want to do what I knew needed to be done, get water.
I gather the electric cords, Curt uncoils the garden hose and we go outside and down to the lower cistern. We haven't opened it all winter and when Curt pulls the door open, the door falls off its hinge. I roll my eyes. Curt opens the hatch in the floor to the cistern. There is 8 inches of ice on the top of the water. I start thinking I may have to dip water out of the fish pond for a shower! We start the pump, but nothing comes out, the hose is frozen into the ice. Time for some McGiver moves.
I pick up an old garden hose with an end cut off. Curt thinks he can use it. He takes the other frozen hose off and forces the piece of garden hose on. With skill he finds just enough of a break in the ice, he squeezes the hose through. Success. He turns the pump on again and I see water pumping out into the driveway. Yippee!
I run to catch it and attach it to the curly hose going into the house's cistern. That is cold water! Curt comes up behind me and we both try to connect the two hoses. Water starts flying everywhere. We are soaked. I wonder what the neighbors think of all our screaming and panting! We realize we have to shut off the water. We can't connect the hoses mid stream. Curt runs back down the hill and shuts off the pump. I screw the hoses together and then I shout for him to try it. (We didn't think we could make the water flow up the mountain that far. We thought we were going to have to take all the hose back down the mountain and get it running first.) It's working! The water starts filling the house's cistern.
We come in and check our email and wait. About 10:30 Curt goes to check to see how deep the water is. He guesses about 8 inches. He flips on the house's water pump switch. The pump starts pumping that same ugly sound. Curt let it pump. He comes upstairs. He turns on the faucet. Drum roll please. . . . . . . .
There is water! Ahhhh. A shower! I'm in bed by 11:00pm!
We figure we lost about 30 days worth of water in one day. Luckily it was spring and we had more water. But we have to make sure we don't make THAT mistake again. All faucets off before you go to bed.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Cleaning the pond
Okay, so who would have guessed this was going to be so difficult? But my husband came home from work and said, "I'd never have guessed that I'd find you fishing in the pond!" But yes indeed. It's true. I was trying to catch the koi that had survived the winter.
There was so much sludge and moss they could just dive into it and hide. So I got out the handy dandy wet vac. :-) I McGeivered a system to run the water through the stream bed and then outside to the shop vac, so I could sit and wait for it to fill and then tip the thing over and watch the water pour down the side of the mountian, snailes and all.
I waited for a fish to come through, but luckily it didn't happen. When the water was lower, I was able to catch them pretty easily, if you call laying on my stomach on the cement floor easy. Luckily there is a lower pond and I just released them in there.
I sucked and sucked and sucked that pond down to the very deepest end and then slowly, carefully, lowered myself in. And it was slick---let me tell you. That rubber pond liner with moss on it was impossible to stand on.
I thought better of it, crawled out again and got out the sprayer on the hose. I sprayed the sides of the pond and sent the hairy green moss sailing down into the deep end with the sucker hose.
I carefully climed back down in and started scrubbing the edges. What I really needed was a toilet brush or something. I wasn't sure how good to clean it, ya know? I knew I had to have some moss and algae in there for the fish to nibble on. So I finally declared it clean enough.
I turned on the hose to fill the pond again and went outside to clean up the shop vac. What I found was a little disturbing. There, down the hill, throughout the garden was a blanket of fishy smelly sludge----a nice smell for every starving bear coming out of hybernation. There was nothing I could do about it.
I closed the patio door but it wouldn't latch. I turned the knob again and again. Nothing. I looked up and saw the remnants of a smudge mark from last summer's bear visit. Yes, the door pushed open from the outside. If I didn't fix it, I could wake up with a bear in my house. I set out trying to fix it, but I was just getting frustrated. I finally decided that if a bear really wanted to come in, he would anyway, a small little latch wouldn't matter.
A couple of days later I found out that a bear HAD come into the neighborhood that night. He smelled paint balls from the neighbor's paint ball guns. He chewed on those and left me alone.
Good news: the latch is now fixed!
There was so much sludge and moss they could just dive into it and hide. So I got out the handy dandy wet vac. :-) I McGeivered a system to run the water through the stream bed and then outside to the shop vac, so I could sit and wait for it to fill and then tip the thing over and watch the water pour down the side of the mountian, snailes and all.
I waited for a fish to come through, but luckily it didn't happen. When the water was lower, I was able to catch them pretty easily, if you call laying on my stomach on the cement floor easy. Luckily there is a lower pond and I just released them in there.
I sucked and sucked and sucked that pond down to the very deepest end and then slowly, carefully, lowered myself in. And it was slick---let me tell you. That rubber pond liner with moss on it was impossible to stand on.
I thought better of it, crawled out again and got out the sprayer on the hose. I sprayed the sides of the pond and sent the hairy green moss sailing down into the deep end with the sucker hose.
I carefully climed back down in and started scrubbing the edges. What I really needed was a toilet brush or something. I wasn't sure how good to clean it, ya know? I knew I had to have some moss and algae in there for the fish to nibble on. So I finally declared it clean enough.
I turned on the hose to fill the pond again and went outside to clean up the shop vac. What I found was a little disturbing. There, down the hill, throughout the garden was a blanket of fishy smelly sludge----a nice smell for every starving bear coming out of hybernation. There was nothing I could do about it.
I closed the patio door but it wouldn't latch. I turned the knob again and again. Nothing. I looked up and saw the remnants of a smudge mark from last summer's bear visit. Yes, the door pushed open from the outside. If I didn't fix it, I could wake up with a bear in my house. I set out trying to fix it, but I was just getting frustrated. I finally decided that if a bear really wanted to come in, he would anyway, a small little latch wouldn't matter.
A couple of days later I found out that a bear HAD come into the neighborhood that night. He smelled paint balls from the neighbor's paint ball guns. He chewed on those and left me alone.
Good news: the latch is now fixed!
Friday, May 1, 2009
The first poop barrel!
Sounds gross, right? I was AMAZED! It didn't smell at all.
We moved in a year ago and turned the turntable on our composting toilet. Instead of a flushing toilet, we have an indoor outhouse. It has three 50 gallon barrels on a turntable in the basement, so that about every 6 months, we have filled a barrel and are ready for a new one. This is the story of emptying the first barrel.
It's not just all filled with human waste and toilet paper. No! We also throw all of our kitchen scraps down there. Each time we make a deposit of any kind, we add a scoop of sphagnum moss. The moss makes the worms feel more at home, I think. I add a pitcher of water now and then to make sure they have enough moisture as well. (We don't send our pee down there, it's too acidic for the worms. We have a pee separator, so the pee goes down a drain and outside.)
Yes, where would we be without worms? As soon as we start a new barrel, I add about 200 red wigglers to the bottom of the barrel. They make themselves at home and start doing their cosmic task: eating our waste and making dirt. When we turn the turntable, I add another 200 worms to the top of the barrel. Maybe I'm adding too many worms---but I'd rather have too many than not enough!
So we had come to the end of our three barrels! We had filled them all up. Now it was time to take out last year's barrel and see if it really was dirt or not. What if the worms had died? What if they didn't finish their job? What if I didn't add enough water and they died of thirst? I was filled with 'what ifs.'
We had purchased a dolly for this task. Curt got on one end and I got on the other and together we clunked the barrel down the stairs into the driveway. I donned my rubber gloves! :-) We tipped the barrel, but nothing would come out. Curt wanted me to start pulling it out with my hands. That was more than I could bare! So together we tipped it upside down and it came out with a thud.
There it was. A mound of poo! Or was it? This was the moment I had waited for and I dug in! (with my yellow rubber gloves, of course) Low and behold, it didn't smell. If I had to pick a smell, it would have been an earth smell. The worms had done their job! But it was very much like a clay. There were no worms left at all. I think that means they ran out of food and died. Sad.
So what did I find? I found the missing sink stopper. Somehow we dumped it down in there with the vegetable scraps, I guess. Should I re-use it? Hmmmm. I also found avocado peelings still 100% in tack --I found some stickers from apples, I found many, many beetle-type, silverfish-type bugs and I even found some tea bag paper. It was very interesting---kind of like an archeology hunt.
I did take a sample of the dirt and put it in the freezer so the university can tell me if it's safe to put on my flower garden. One thing I don't want is all the bears in the neighborhood to come over to smell my new dirt. Bears can smell better than we can, you know. So for now, I have my new dirt in a garbage can awaiting the time I will actually use the dirt.
We moved in a year ago and turned the turntable on our composting toilet. Instead of a flushing toilet, we have an indoor outhouse. It has three 50 gallon barrels on a turntable in the basement, so that about every 6 months, we have filled a barrel and are ready for a new one. This is the story of emptying the first barrel.
It's not just all filled with human waste and toilet paper. No! We also throw all of our kitchen scraps down there. Each time we make a deposit of any kind, we add a scoop of sphagnum moss. The moss makes the worms feel more at home, I think. I add a pitcher of water now and then to make sure they have enough moisture as well. (We don't send our pee down there, it's too acidic for the worms. We have a pee separator, so the pee goes down a drain and outside.)
Yes, where would we be without worms? As soon as we start a new barrel, I add about 200 red wigglers to the bottom of the barrel. They make themselves at home and start doing their cosmic task: eating our waste and making dirt. When we turn the turntable, I add another 200 worms to the top of the barrel. Maybe I'm adding too many worms---but I'd rather have too many than not enough!
So we had come to the end of our three barrels! We had filled them all up. Now it was time to take out last year's barrel and see if it really was dirt or not. What if the worms had died? What if they didn't finish their job? What if I didn't add enough water and they died of thirst? I was filled with 'what ifs.'
We had purchased a dolly for this task. Curt got on one end and I got on the other and together we clunked the barrel down the stairs into the driveway. I donned my rubber gloves! :-) We tipped the barrel, but nothing would come out. Curt wanted me to start pulling it out with my hands. That was more than I could bare! So together we tipped it upside down and it came out with a thud.
There it was. A mound of poo! Or was it? This was the moment I had waited for and I dug in! (with my yellow rubber gloves, of course) Low and behold, it didn't smell. If I had to pick a smell, it would have been an earth smell. The worms had done their job! But it was very much like a clay. There were no worms left at all. I think that means they ran out of food and died. Sad.
So what did I find? I found the missing sink stopper. Somehow we dumped it down in there with the vegetable scraps, I guess. Should I re-use it? Hmmmm. I also found avocado peelings still 100% in tack --I found some stickers from apples, I found many, many beetle-type, silverfish-type bugs and I even found some tea bag paper. It was very interesting---kind of like an archeology hunt.
I did take a sample of the dirt and put it in the freezer so the university can tell me if it's safe to put on my flower garden. One thing I don't want is all the bears in the neighborhood to come over to smell my new dirt. Bears can smell better than we can, you know. So for now, I have my new dirt in a garbage can awaiting the time I will actually use the dirt.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Sterilizing dirt
It's spring! I need to start planting seeds. In the solarium, my lilac bush is leafing out, my geraniums have new leaves and even my lobelia, which I thought was dead, is blooming. It's time!
I put the fruit fly infested dirt outside to freeze. But when reflecting on fruit flies and their unwillingness to die, I decided maybe freezing them wasn't enough. So, yesterday I carefully brought in the containers of dirt with snow on top. I thawed them and then I started scooping the dirt into a nice Easter colored casserole dish. I popped the dish into the microwave like I was preparing some elegant mud pie and zapped it for 5 minutes. It came out steaming and hot, but it didn't really smell all that great.
I was sure that would do it and no new bugs could have lived, but I wasn't ready for what I found when the mud pie cooled. I started scooping that mud pie into the big, fresh dirt container. Yes, the smell. It was bad, but I assumed that's just the smell of freshly cooked dirt, or worm poop, depending on your perspective. Wanna know what I found at the bottom? Nice, big, fat red wigglers cooked to perfection. They were kinda transparent around the edges and really, really soggy worms. Somehow they had snuck through and ended up in the dirt pile instead of the worm pile.
I instantly flashed to my childhood and mom reading the book How to Eat Fried Worms. If I would have had a child near by to gross out, I might have picked it up and held it to my lips, but luckily, I was alone. I turned my head and scraped them into the fresh dirt pile. But. . .sterilizing dirt from now on, I know, will take nose plugs!
I put the fruit fly infested dirt outside to freeze. But when reflecting on fruit flies and their unwillingness to die, I decided maybe freezing them wasn't enough. So, yesterday I carefully brought in the containers of dirt with snow on top. I thawed them and then I started scooping the dirt into a nice Easter colored casserole dish. I popped the dish into the microwave like I was preparing some elegant mud pie and zapped it for 5 minutes. It came out steaming and hot, but it didn't really smell all that great.
I was sure that would do it and no new bugs could have lived, but I wasn't ready for what I found when the mud pie cooled. I started scooping that mud pie into the big, fresh dirt container. Yes, the smell. It was bad, but I assumed that's just the smell of freshly cooked dirt, or worm poop, depending on your perspective. Wanna know what I found at the bottom? Nice, big, fat red wigglers cooked to perfection. They were kinda transparent around the edges and really, really soggy worms. Somehow they had snuck through and ended up in the dirt pile instead of the worm pile.
I instantly flashed to my childhood and mom reading the book How to Eat Fried Worms. If I would have had a child near by to gross out, I might have picked it up and held it to my lips, but luckily, I was alone. I turned my head and scraped them into the fresh dirt pile. But. . .sterilizing dirt from now on, I know, will take nose plugs!
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