It's Tinklebell! (OR How to Compost with Kids!)

So, we decided that the next step in our evolving eco-consciousness was to get a compost going. After months of talking about it we decided to take the plunge and confront our biggest challenge yet---to be serious composters. No funny business this time. We had done it previously at our last house but we didn't realize the relationship that one needs to have with one's compost pile. We were bad compost caregivers. We didn't turn the pile, layer with brown materials, or cut the pieces into small enough pieces. What we had was a pile of stinking, rotten veg and fruit that was attracting all sorts of unwanted guests, not the soft, moist brown pile of luscious earth that we had wanted.

We attempted to make amends with our past.

We drove the double stroller to the city works yard to pick up our city-subsidized large black plastic composter.

When I said to the woman that we had a hard time figuring out where to actually get a backyard composter, she said that the city doesn't really like to publicize this as it costs them money for every composter they sell to the public. This was a little like looking for the really trendy restaurant (with a pink door) that doesn't have a name or an address and no one really can give very clear directions on how to get there... but somehow you manage to find it!

This all sounds too brilliant. You'd think that the city would consider the far-reaching consequences of selling composters to local residents since nearly 30 percent of a household's garbage can be composted! Imagine that! But, I digress.

We had to take the kids out of the stroller in order to wheel home the enormous composter box. It seemed like a nice little project for husband and #1 child (M) to tackle. There was a gleam in their eyes as they stood it up all put together and M declares, "I'm a fixer like daddy!" Then she was off to gather sticks to line the bottom of the composter---another great job for a little one to scavenge in the park outside our house, except she found everything but sticks.

Meanwhile, I got to reading the little booklets that came with the composter to figure out what I needed to know. Again. We had done this before but I forgot some of what I could and couldn't compost.

Some of the more intriguing compostables:

paper towels. Hurray! I never composted this before but with little kids we go through paper towels like water (another thing I need to work on!) so at least I can feel not quite so bad about it now.
dryer lint. Hmmm. Ok. I think I can do that.
pet manure. Well, only that of rabbits, gerbils, guinea pigs, sheep, horses and cows. Luckily we get to skip this one as we don't have any of the forementioned animals sharing our townhouse.
human hair. Curious. Should I be cleaning my brush and taking the hair down to the composter every morning? Or should I be gathering a pile of hair in a container in which to later compost? I'm not sure I can do this either. M has a marked and rather violent phobia of hair. Not her hair but any other hair she encounters. I guess this one is out too as I need to dispose of it ASAP if I want to avoid a major meltdown. Which is tantamount to peace in the Middle East right now.

Well we got going and started collecting the normal compostables- fruit and vegetable trimmings, egg shells, tea bags, coffee grounds- in our compostable salad container on the counter. We (ahem, I should say husband) took it out every evening. Despite this, within days we had some major fruit fly action happening.

I started researching how to kill these curious pests. By hand? Impossible. Luring them into a paper cone with the sweet scent of balsamic vinegar? Plausible. Then I talked to my sister. She said it worked for her so I was off to entrap and eventually kill the little buzzers.

Well, I got one. By shoving him into the cone, I finally got one! But I am pretty sure he alerted all his buddies to this business because they were swarming the cup but no one dared enter.

Later M and I were eating lunch and a fly was buzzing around her cherry tomatoes. I got up trying desperately to kill the thing. M jumps up and says, "Look at the fairy!" I immediately halted. I know what she thinks of fairies. She loves them. How did she think fruit flies are fairies? I cannot kill what she loves...can I?

"It's Tinklebell!!!" Tinklebell? Yikes. I am in trouble.

This really made me rethink the compost materials on the kitchen counter. I needed to find something to keep the flies at bay. Something with an airtight seal but not too big or hideous. Then I stumbled upon it...at Ikea...the perfect composting container EVER! It looks like a beautiful piece of kitchen ware but really hides the rotting flesh of vegetable and fruit matter with no more fairies!

P.S. By the way, just shared this post with husband and found out that HE was the one who started the fairy/fruit fly pairing! Apparently he needed some way for M to deal with all the fruit flies in our house, who is scared of insects too right now. But, curiously, not of fairies that look suspiciously like insects.

P.S.S. We are learning to be better compost caregivers...