Well, wait, perhaps I should be more clear. He is NOT about to burst into flames any time soon (well, at least I don't think so. . . you never quite know about that boy), but his new enterprise, When Pigs Fly Farm Composting Incorporated, has reached combustion point (120 degrees, correct, FJ?)
That's when all things good start happening in the composting world. Farmer Jim was/is using a base of cardboard soaked in water (the carbon part of composting, right? I so failed chemistry. One of the many, MANY reasons why I majored in history) mixed with grass clippings and a few humble green non-weed offerings of my own (the nitrogen, right!? ok, I'll be quiet now). I chose not to photograph the carbon base in its more formative stages -- the wet cardboard looked liked, well, shit.
Rumor has it, we're moving on to sawdust because cardboard was not particularly Farmer Jim-friendly.
Despite Farmer Jim's reassurances, I am steering clear of his composting bin smouldering at 120 degrees for the next few days. I don't think I'd like being on the receiving end of a spontaneous compost combustion.
In other news:
It's August. We're now in that inevitable foot race with fall and falling temperatures. It's already darker in the morning when I get up. Sigh.
Farmer Jim swears he has the first tomato to be turning red in Bermtopia. This may possibly be true. Every other tomato plant I've seen in the 'hood is green. Me? I am feverishly collecting green tomato recipes.
Myself, I am also having a slight sagging problem. And it's contagious. My tomatoes have caught it and are joyfully embracing a middle-age list to the left. Who says imitation isn't the greatest form of flattery? I
It's nothing that a few pussy willow stakes and garden twine can't solve, though. I love pussy willow stakes.
They are lovely to begin with -- and age into the best garden stakes ever. Lovely patina, incredibly sturdy, yet very flexible, with wonderfully quirky shapes. I love things that do double duty like this.