Composting freely....

Moving around a lot, I've left a number of composting styles in my wake.  The latest move took away my easiest compost site: behind the garage where plain piles were not visible.  

In my new yard I don't have such a convenient spot and needed something to hide the compost in.  I also needed to get rid of some of the junk the previous owners had left in the backyard.  Killing two birds with one stone feels pretty good.

SUPPLIES

1 lidless plastic trash bin

Saw

Compostable material

My dearest husband sawed off the bottom of the trash bin.  He's using a saber saw

here but for the first bin he actually used a wood saw.  He said both worked.

He followed a divot in the bin design to make for an easier cutting line.

When the wheels were off, we tipped the bin over.  The open top (now the bottom)

allows the compost to touch the ground making it easier for composting "bugs" to

get in and work their magic.  It means I don't have to add any compost accelerator

to the mix.  

Ken wants to add a hinge of some sort to keep the wheeled lid on but I think

they make great scoops for when I transfer and mix compost.  For now, I simply

balance them over the opening to slow down some of the evaporation.

Finally add your compostables (here grass clippings and weeds).  

Mix well and wait...

P.S.  We have considered drilling holes up the sides to increase aeration.  However, this is our first composting experience in New Mexico where it's really dry.  I'm waiting to see how fast these bins dry out before I decide on any more modifications.  

Ghost VS Aliens...

At the end of the tutorial on how to make lawn ghosts for Halloween, I'd mentioned that different colored table cloths made different creatures.  Here are some views from the epic Red Rover battle that happened on my lawn last year.  Unfortunately I don't have pics of the guys playing at Halloween.  But they weren't done on Nov. 1st and kept up with the hi-jinks until after Christmas.

Spooky time of year...

I've got to say that Halloween decorating ranks right up there with Christmas decorating for me.  I look forward to it all year.  Could have something to do with meeting my husband at a costume party way back when.  But I digress....

One of the old standbys for my family is the Halloween ghosts.  I've been doing them since I read about them in a kids craft magazine about 9 years ago and they've served the family well.  

This is the first year I've tried lighted heads so I'll have to let you know how they work.  If you'd like to make your own here are the steps:

SUPPLIES FOR EACH GHOST

1 plastic table cloth 

1 gallon milk jug, well washed

1 timer tea light candle

cutting implement (bread knife works well)

zip ties or twist ties or floral wire

1 thin pole (long garden stakes or bamboo or the like)

The tea lights I picked up at Walmart.  They are designed for for use as memorial or 

graveyard displays.  Once you turn them on they light up at the same time every night and stay on

for a few hours.  They are supposed to last about 30 days.  This means that assembling the 

ghosts is best done just about twilight...or turn your tea lights on at twilight the day before but

I'm never that organized.

Cut a few inches down the side of the milk jug.  This just needs to be far enough to open 

the top and fit the candle inside.

Throw the tea light inside.  Lay out your table cloth and find the center.  Place

the milk jug in the center and gather the ends around the mouth of the jug.

Secure the table cloth at the mouth.  Zip ties are my favorite for this

but, alas, we just moved and mine are all still packed in a box...somewhere.

Floral wire ended up being easier than trying to tie the "neck" with string.

Finally, put the sticks into the ground where you want the ghosts and 

feed the top end into the mouth of the milk jug.  I like to tie the corners of

the table cloths together to make the ghosts hold hands.

Just a couple of tips from over the years:  You can use large white trash bags for the ghosts.  But if you let the corner of the bag point up at the top of the ghosts' head...well, you have friends calling to ask why the KKK is meeting in your yard.  Different height stakes make for a family of ghosts.  Kind of fun to have everyone in your real family decorate their ghost counterpart.  Hey, and different color tablecloths make for different creatures...I should post the winter of aliens sometime....

184

“184”

Christie Harkness

      Jerking awake once more, I stare into the pre-dawn darkness.  Hearing Gus in the shower, I know it’s really time to get up.  I try to calm my mind.  Panic is already screaming, “No!  No, no, no, no, no!  I don’t want to face this again!” The same refrain for weeks.  Now more strident.

     Reason attempts, “I’ve done this before.  I can make it again.”  About as effective as logic-ing a tantruming two-year-old. 

     The sound of the shower cutting off snaps my attention to the task at hand.  Get up.  Get everyone in the car.  Drive to Subbase New London.  Send my other half off with the second woman in his life, his submarine, the USS ANNAPOLIS.

     Thundering silence is the morning’s soundtrack.  Everything important has been said except good-bye.  Putting that off until we can’t is a game.  With Panic copiloting anything I say may be a plea not to leave.  I won’t give in to that.  I can’t.  Not when it would send him away not trusting that I will keep our family safe and sane. 

     The beauty of the sunrise over the Thames sets the river aglow.  Gus plops his sea bag next to our car.  It carries a copy of Harry Potter, spine unbroken, a handmade bear from the girls and six months’ worth of handwritten letters from me.  Knowing how often the e-mail goes down and remembering our first deployments when the only reliable communication was packed in the sea bag we’ve worked to make certain he carries these touches of home.

     Today the witch is docked close enough to see, her black hull catching reflections of gold from the water.  A silent plea to bring my husband back safe just once more overflows my heart while he climbs in back to say good bye to Kiers and Lu.  He then ducks back out to hug me.  I cling for a moment, fighting tears.    Watching him walk through the gate postpones the moment when we’re only three quarters of a family. 

     The morning routines are accomplished in a daze.  But the Tuesday goodbyes at the steps to Mary Morrisson Elementary still arrive just like this was a normal weekday.  Except we cleave together instead of passing  a jaunty wave goodbye. 

     A wandering drive alone allows me time to let go.  Escape from the responsibility to stay in control.  Now Panic can let everything out and ultimately sleep.   Tears wash over the pain of loss and water the seeds of strength, sending tiny tendrils growing through me. 

     Still fragile, I head towards my lunch date.  Linda Morales’ soft Texas drawl greets me.  “I guess we can ‘see’ each other now.  Not like this mornin’ when we only had eyes for our guys.”  Joking recognition of our near meeting at the back gate.

      “Yea, I would have asked you all for coffee…” Sally McBride’s crisp New York tones chime in, “but I really needed some time alone.”  She trails off a shameful admission.  This is Sally’s first time at this dance and she’s still unsure of the steps.

     Before I can say anything Michelle Lyson throws out her down to earth Midwest logic, “Don’t worry, everyone handles goodbyes differently.  Just do what feels right to you.”

     The smiles go around and conversation flows.  What’s said isn’t important, but being here to say something is.  Coming together this circle of friends celebrates bonds that will make us stronger than any one of us is alone.  This fountain of encouragement flows through Heidi Caudle who invited me to my first deployment lunch and will flow on through the sailor’s spouses these women will pass the tradition to.  Communing together today designates the differences in our lives from this moment on.  More, it’s recognition that challenges will not go unmet.  These allies promise to be there for the child’s broken arm or the spurting washer hose.  Even when our words are only of plans to work out and books we’ve read.

     Fortified, I face the rest of my day.  Dinner and homework, tasks Gus and I normally share, are now divided between different family members.  On our best behavior the girls and I help each other through this first night.  I manage the next chapter of Harry Potter sharing it with Gus if only in our thoughts and his. 

     One final task to end the day.  I draw out the calendar pages and hand them to Kiers.  Lu takes the first crayon she finds and marks a blue X boldly on Tuesday.  Day one down, only 183 to go.