Note that if you purchase something via one of our links, including Amazon, we may earn a small commission.
Dear Dot,
I tried a compost barrel that I would turn once a week. There was no good way to get the compost out and when roaches showed up, I moved the barrel to an extra lot. It is still sitting there today, three years later. It’s never been emptied. Or touched.
Is there an easier way to compost and maybe a timeline for when it might be ready to put on plants? And hopefully an easier way to access the compost when it is ready?
– Mary
The Short Answer: Check your abandoned barrel — there’s a good chance it’s already turned into usable, dark, crumbly compost that might just need a little water and time to finish. Going forward, pick a composting method that actually fits your effort level and routine (even two simple bins — one active, one finishing), keep a roughly 2:1 ratio of “wet” food scraps to “dry” carbon material like leaves or cardboard, and don’t stress about roaches or smells, since both are normal and usually just mean that the ratio needs tweaking.
My dear Mary,
If you ask Dot, the high priestess of composting is named Cass Marketos. Cass writes “The Rot” on Substack and has also written a book entitled Compost After Reading, which you can find here or here.
Cass lives and breathes compost, and, as she likes to point out, will someday be compost. As we all will. But for now, a few of us are composters and as such, Cass notes, are “tasked with stewarding the conditions of the compost pile. [We] determine whether decomposition will be hastened or proceed aimlessly, whether it will take place in an enclosed chamber or open heap, and whether it will be driven primarily by bacteria or perhaps fungi. Thus, composting happens anywhere that a composter takes it upon themselves to deliberately manage the process of decomposition. This includes a great variety of forms and approaches — all, in my view, legitimized by their intention and none excluded by the range of their outcomes.”
This philosophy strikes Dot as the perfect place to start. There is no shame in your untended barrel, Mary. No shame in the roaches, nor the bewilderment about when, exactly, this compost might actually be compost, and therefore useful to you and your garden. “Composting is simple,” Cass wrote in The Rot, “but, for the beginner, it can feel distantly complex, even magical. I encourage you to embrace that feeling. The composter performs a kind of spell, I like to believe, casting deep into the world for something far greater than themselves.”
And isn’t that the hook, Mary? Isn’t that what has you, three years on, still wondering about what alchemy is taking place in your barrel, what magic you might yet unleash on your garden?
So let us dig down to the basics to assuage your concerns and give comfort to those, like you, who fear they are unworthy of helping their heap. Cass says one of the biggest mistakes she sees is people thinking they’re doing something wrong when their compost pile is actually just fine.
Composting happens anywhere that a composter takes it upon themselves to deliberately manage the process of decomposition. This includes a great variety of forms and approaches — all, in my view, legitimized by their intention and none excluded by the range of their outcomes.
– Cass Marketos, composting guru
But let us first address the why of composting before we get to the how:
Take a visit to your local landfill and you will find that very close to one quarter of what’s buried there is food. This, Mary, is a climate crime. Further, you will find yard waste, wood, paper, and other organic materials comprising more than half of what’s there. All of this is compostable. Why does this matter? Because as organic matter decomposes, it doesn’t just take up valuable real estate on our planet, it rots anaerobically (without oxygen) and releases methane, a greenhouse gas 28 times more potent than carbon dioxide. Conversely, composting, aided by oxygen, turns all those organic odds and sods into what Cass calls, “a great gift for your soil.”
Itt’s clear to Dot that you want to bestow that gift on your soil, Mary, so let’s get to the how.
For those of us who, unlike you, Mary, are just contemplating composting, Cass urges us to ask ourselves some questions.
- How much effort do we want to put in?
- What’s our physical ability?
- What’s our daily routine?
Our goal should always be to create the compost pile that suits us, one that is easy to turn, easy to access, and easy to use. Otherwise, Cass says, people will do exactly what you have (quite understandably) done, Mary, and abandon it.
Once we have settled on a specific container (or lack of — a corner of our back yard is perfectly acceptable), we can begin depositing organic waste. Cass avoids the sometimes confusing language of “greens” and “browns” in favor of differentiating between high nitrogen scraps (food scraps, coffee grounds — the “wet, gloppy stuff,” Cass says) and high carbon scraps (cardboard, paper, dried leaves, wood chips — what Cass calls the “dry, woody stuff”). Cass’s rule of thumb is two parts carbon-heavy material to one part nitrogen-heavy. “People argue about this,” she notes. But she opts for simplicity and says that 2:1 is easy for even beginners to eyeball.
For your abandoned barrel, Mary, Cass encourages you to check it. She suspects you might well discover some of the beautiful humus that is so beloved by our gardens. If, however, it’s dry or not fully broken down into humus, turn it, wet it, leave it a week or two and then it should be good to use. How will you know? Your eyes and nose will tell the tale! Finished compost should look dark and crumbly, smell like fresh earth, and contain no visible food scraps. Cass says it’s okay if there are some brown chunks, even eggshells. They can act as mulch or slow-release micronutrients in your garden. And odor is feedback, Cass says, not a reason to give up. Bad smells usually mean something is off (ratios, moisture, exposure of food) and can be corrected. Always ensure that you bury your food scraps (nitrogen) under enough dry, carbon-rich material.
Take a visit to your local landfill and you will find that very close to one quarter of what’s buried there is food. This is a climate crime. Further, you will find yard waste, wood, paper, and other organic materials comprising more than half of what’s there. All of this is compostable.
As for those roaches, Mary? They, along with other insects such as flies, larvae, and ants, are part of the normal decomposition process and, therefore, often a beneficial part of a healthy ecosystem. Populations self-regulate based on the size and condition of your pile. Cass’s “radical hippie” stance on insects is to leave them be and prevent them from becoming a nuisance by ensuring your house doesn’t entice them to move indoors. Animals, too, might be attracted to your pile, but they’re actually more drawn to the insects than to the food. Again, that’s not necessarily a problem. Just ensure that your home remains inhospitable to them.
To recap, Mary, inspect your abandoned bin, make any necessary tweaks, and then apply what’s in there to your garden. Going forward, Cass urges you to select the type of pile that best suits you, allowing easy access to finished humus, while you continue to add new material. Or, she says, perhaps a two-barrel system would be better. While you’re actively adding material to Bin A, you can use the decomposed material in Bin B. This, she says, gives you one bin of finished (or finishing) compost and one active bin at all times.
Either way, Cass — and Dot — hope you won’t give up on composting entirely. The humus that is the end point of our composting practice “is what remains when dead things can be broken down no further,” Cass wrote in The Rot. “It may seem like an ecological afterthought, mere leftovers, but humus is the whole point of your composting work. More than that, it could even be said that humus is the whole point of life on Earth. It is where we start from, in addition to where we will end.”
Like magic.
Decompositionally,
Dot
