Here is the composter, at last. Jora JK125. Swedish composting brilliance. I had seen a composter like this on a client's terrace and was seduced by the beautiful compost it made: crumbly, dark, good-smelling. It took eight months to make up my mind, and here we are.
It arrived late at night in a great big box last week, after the snowstorm.
Mostly, assembly went well, if slowly, despite a severely furrowed brow and several expletives, mostly in the ...wtf...? vein: The instructions are not friendly. At the very end I had to take a piece of it apart again and turn the A frame legs around. I was not thrilled. That was around 7pm, having started unpacking the box at about 2pm. Somewhere inbetween, two sourdough loaves were baked and a supper of sorts was throw into (or perhaps at) the oven.
The last hour was a little tense, as Vince really wanted to help and I really wanted to finish it on my own. Which, at last, I did. With the help of the vermouth and cassis he delivered quietly, stepping like a mouse.
Yesterday it was taken to a temporary spot on the terrace (till more snow melts) and given its first meal of chopped vegetable peelings. And a hot water bottle to help. The Swedes told me to do it! Once the first compartment is full (or almost) it will take about three weeks for compost. They say. I'll expect it to take longer because of the cold, but once the bacteria get going apparently things really cook. It is well insulated.
My steepest leaning curve? Operating two wrenches, at the same time, in opposite directions.
Greatest revelation? The right screwdriver makes ALL the impossible possible. Left? Wrong. Right? Right!
If Vince had not come home when he did and found the yellow for me I might have been booked into the funny farm by now.
Night-night, vegetables. Sleep tight.
Tell those bacteria to bite.