I’m still grieving, though time has helped ease the pain. Having her in our lives for seven years was truly a gift. This spring when the season begins, she won’t be here with me to root through the compost as I turn it over in the beds. I won’t hear her happy duck gurgles as she would waddle in search of crickets under the shrubs. I won’t get to watch her splashing in her pool as the days begin to warm. All I can do is glance over at the gray concrete casting of a duck that marks her grave in the corner of the garden, and smile as I think of all the beautiful little moments she gave to me and the girls.
I originally purchased the bin off of Craigslist if you can
believe that—I was lucky to cross paths with a local organic home vegetable
gardener who wasn’t able to maintain her worm factory any longer. I bought the 18-gallon bin for $20, and it
was full of amazing things--worm castings, worm adults, worm cocoons, worm
babies. The whole shebang. We maintained it easily for about a year until
this past summer. Then, we just stopped.
in almost seven months and see what had happened.
 |
| hundreds of tiny red wigglers remained in the castings
The adult worms were gone, reincorporated into the soil that
had once fed them.
However, hundreds of baby worms were dispersed throughout
what must have been 8 quarts of castings. Cocoons were visible by the hundreds,
too.
Only tiny bits of egg shells were obvious--every other type
of organic matter that had been added to the bin was perfectly composted. No
odor. No insects. Damp, but not soggy.
Gold for the garden. Food for my soul.
I had feared that life inside the forgotten bin had all but
ceased--but this was not the case. I could start over, I thought to myself. The
worms had tended to themselves perfectly--just as nature had intended--while I
had tended to myself. It was time to pick up where we'd left off, and get back
to our business once again.
I
cut a black contractor bag down the side and across the bottom to use as a tarp
for working with my castings. Since my goal today was a maintenance check &
content transfer and NOT harvesting the castings, this was a simple process.
More on harvesting castings this spring. Stay tuned.
Since
the rim of inner bin had been bent from being stuck inside the green one, the
lid no longer sealed; hence my need to transfer the operation to the green one.
Notice the chocolate cake-like texture of the compost. Ooh, la, la. That stuff
is just awesome. And I would take the credit for it had I at least opened the
lid once in seven months. But I didn't. And it happened anyway.
You are correct. That is a spatula. And no, I don't flip
eggs with it in the off-season in the kitchen. It stays with the worms. Why a
spatula, you ask? Well, get ready. This is highly technical and very complex
answer: I had an extra one in the kitchen drawer when I was setting up the bin,
and I decided it would do the trick for loosening up the layers in the bin when
I wanted to check on the worms, harvest them, or spread layers of vegetable
scraps.
Keeping worms is really so simple--please trust me on this. The blue bin is the original bin I bought--it had drainage holes already drilled in the bottom of it, so I nestled it inside the new 18-gallon green bin on top of two bricks. The concentrated worm tea drips through the holes of the blue bin and collects in the bottom of the green one. 
I drilled small holes around the top of the green
bin to increase air circulation. I did this all the way around the top of the
bin in a couple of alternating rows. I also drilled three larger drainage holes
in a cluster in the bottom of the bin, made a base of bricks with an open center
for the bin to rest on, and slid a dishpan underneath the holes to catch the
liquid by-products for making healthy plant smoothies. Don't throw this out--it's spectacular
sludge!
So once I had prepared the new bin for the worms, I began to
add them back into their new new home. Shredded newspaper is their preferred
bedding. I stay away from glossy paper and colored inks if I can and keep it
basic.
They also love plain, brown corrugated cardboard. They congregate underneath it, it helps absorb excess moisture in the bin, and they eat it. I tear off hand-sized pieces and scatter them in the newspaper layer. Worms move upward in the bin leaving castings behind as they eat. I didn't want to put all of the worms & castings back into the bottom of the bin, so I created organic layers with several different types of materials that would serve as both food and bedding. The worms can move up as they please.  The layering process went something like this:
dried leaves + small twigs + pine straw
shredded newspaper + small corrugated cardboard pieces
worms & castings
shredded newspaper
vegetable trimmings + apple bits
dried leaves + chopped corn stalks
shredded newspaper
worms & castings
small corrugated cardboard pieces
dried leaves + pine straw
shredded newspaper
worms & castings
vegetable scraps
thick dried leaf layer + corrugated cardboard layer
I snapped the lid shut and placed the bin on a platform near the door to the house
inside garage.
Be sure to keep contents moist like a damp sponge--spray with a mister bottle if needed. Add a layer of bedding on top as things begin to break down followed by a sprinkling of food--about once or twice a week. Elizabeth will be 12 in March. I'm thinking of starting over with a new set of ducklings. In loving memory of Big Mama Duck March 12, 2006--July 7, 2013  |
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