Yesterday morning I made a wonderful discovery. I was so excited I had to burst into the house, interrupting Stuart's weekly phone chat with his folks and startling Daniel out of his Captain Underpants daze (oh, when will he ever be done reading those books? I have banned the word "poo-poo" in my house because he can't stop saying it) to show everyone this:
Yup, that's dirt. But it's not just any dirt, it's DIY dirt right out of our back yard compost pile! We have been composting for years, and it's mostly been, frankly, a smelly disaster. But finally, finally, we are having success. For all the effort and kitchen scraps that went into the compost, all we've gotten so far is two pails' worth, but two pails is better than nothing, and it's definitely better than a pile of slime that smells worse than the dog next door. At any rate, it gives me hope that we may yet get the hang of this.
Anya was pretty happy about it, too;
She is one eager helper in the garden. Both of my kids are, actually, and this year I'm letting them have a little plot of their own. We'll see how that goes.