Dirty dancing is latest talent of precious pup
For years, every banana peel, apple core, corn husk and coffee ground produced in our kitchen has gone directly into one of a half-dozen plastic coffee cans under the kitchen sink. Once those cans are full, I stack them one on another and carefully make my way to the garden, where I dutifully roll the “greens” into the “browns” to feed the bugs of our compost pile.
Over time I have actually come to look upon the bacteria, fungi and various other decomposers in my compost pile as full members of the family menagerie. It’s become a bit of an obsession. (So I am told.)
A key to keeping my compost critters healthy and happy is turning the pile on a regular basis to make sure everyone gets their fair share of oxygen. Aside from these weekly “feedings,” this is pretty much the only care the pile requires. It’s a labor of love that exacts a happy return each summer when the garden veggies stretch skyward juiced with this wholly homemade fertilizer. Occasionally, the pile surprises me with a volunteer tomato or a newly sprouted “mystery squash.” If the timing is right, I’ll transplant the spin-off and enjoy the little gift.
A few years back, one of my routine turnings unearthed a sprouted avocado — something I hardly imagined possible given the granite-like stone at the center of the fruit. Who knew that simply stewing in the middle of a pile of carrot skins, egg shells and used-up tea bags could crack the seemingly impenetrable seed? I gently potted the post-partum pit and rushed to tell everyone I was a new avocado father.
After nurturing the seedling into a foot-high sapling over the course of the summer, I brought it indoors before the frost. That’s when life drained the tint from my green thumb. Closed off safely in a room away from leaf-nibbling cats and leg-lifting dogs, the baby tree eventually slipped my mind and became just another shriveled twig in an endless line of houseplants that have crossed our threshold filled with chlorophyll and optimism only to leave as dust and tinder.
This summer the universe gave me a second chance at avocado husbandry when I turned the compost to find yet another aspiring avocado tree in the form of split pit with a single sprouted root. Transplanted quickly to a pot filled with my miracle kitchen scrap medium, the little tree thrived, stretching upward almost a foot to produce a dozen deep-green leaves. Then October came, and fearing an overnight freeze, I hastily moved the pot to the thermal safety of our enclosed back porch, consciously stopping short of the “great indoors,” where taste-testing felines and dubious dogs ply their trade. I didn’t mention this move to my wife as I saw it as just a temporary layover.
The move turned out to be much more temporary than planned as Kristin’s habit of allowing Frankie to “chill out” on the back porch, “When he’s antsy for fun but there’s work to be done,” resulted in its latest disastrous fallout. When she opened the door moments later, Frankie thanked her for the alone time by wiggling happily on a bed of spilled compost next to an empty pot with a twist of avocado on the side.
Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John at jlorson@alonovus.com.