Skip to main content

Can Worms Save My Relationship with Composting?

After a few too many brushes with anerobic decay in my kitchen compost pail, my passion for composting is cooling. I'm quite sure that my carbon footprint for toting a small pail of fresh compost a couple of miles to the Fink Farm compost bin more than exceeds any benefit to be gained from returning green waste to the ground.

An alternative currently has me firmly in its grip: kitchen vermiculture. To describe this in simple terms, you take a set of stacked, ventilated trays and add 1,000 red worms (Eisenia foetida), bedding materials, a little water and up to five pounds of food waste a week. The worms digest the waste, creating casting that are rich in nitrogen, phosphates, potash, calcium and magnesium. The castings can be put in the garden. As the worms finish the waste, they crawl up into the next level of the bin.  The lower tray can then be emptied into the garden.

The worms can process fruits, vegetables, stale bread, old rice or pasta, coffee grounds and dryer lint.  You just have to avoid meat and dairy products, processed foods or greasy or oily waste products. The bedding materials include strips of newspaper, shredded cardboard and coconut coir (peat). Burying the food in a different spot in the bin at each feeding discourages molds and fruit flies.


If the food waste doesn't disappear in a few days, you need to either get more worms or give them less garbage.

If you farm the worms correctly there are no odors.  It's a silent process and the bins can even be kept in the kitchen. (Worms can get their favorite dark, moist environment inside the bin, but you have to protect them from extremes in temperature, water levels and acidity/alkalinity.)

When Karen and I first explored composting, we attended a workshop run by the City of LA in Griffith Park.  The presenter was hilarious and informative.  He said he'd kept a plastic box of worms under his desk for a long time.  He only got rid of it when he realized that a colleague in a neighboring cubicle would have gone hysterical if she'd known that she was working so close to damp, squiggly, red garbage eating creatures.

I'd read a description by Amy Stewart in passing of a worm bin in her book, The Earth Moved. I instantly recognized them when I passed the Urban Worms booth at the Studio City farmers market. 

If it hadn't been for the
$149 price tag, I would be crooning lullabies to my red worms now.  For the moment, I'm checking out Mary Appelhof's book Worms Eat My Garbage: How to Set Up and Maintain a Worm Composting System, and Loreen Nancarrow and Janet Hogan Taylor's The Worm Book: The Complete Guide to Gardening and Composting with Worms.

Urban worms can be found at the Saturday Pasadena Farmers Market at Pasadena High School or the Sunday Studio City Farmers Market at Laurel Canyon and Ventura Place as well as a number of Central Valley farmers markets.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Know Your Soil For Best Garden Results

I've always taken soil for granted. It was there. You put seeds into it. You put water on it. Plants grow and produce flowers, fruit or vegetables. Gayle Weinstein, author of Xeriscape Handbook; A How-To Guide to Natural, Resource-Wise Gardening , takes a different view: “Soil . . . acts as a highway between life and death, land and atmosphere, plants and animals.” It stores water, air and nutrients and makes it possible for an exchange of elements and chemical reactions to occur, she adds. She describes soil as being animal, vegetable and mineral combined. Here are six tests Gayle recommends for getting to know your soil. Grab a shovel and a quart jar. Dig up two cups of dry soil two-to-six inches deep from the areas you want to test. Gather a glass of water, dish washing detergent and paper towels. A soil pH kit, a meter or litmus paper will be needed for the final test.

Order in the Garden

The first year that Fink Farm was in operation, we devoured Mel Bartholomew's Square Foot Gardening .  A 10-foot by 12-foot plot isn't much.  We pegged off one-foot measures on two adjoining sides, and rolled some pebbled pavers into position to give us places to stand amongst our soon to be thriving garden. But then things started spinning out of alignment. For starters, it became clear that running string across the dirt in one-foot increments was going to create one nasty arrangement for digging on any scale at all. All I could envision was a broken ankle from hopping over all that string.

Water saving ollas

When you're saving water, the first step is to get the water where it's needed in the most direct way possible. No sprinkler heads rising like swans in a ballet to spew water 18-inches above the ground, splashing sidewalks and gutters. No sprinklers nodding back and forth sending sprays of water as tall as a child. Nope, it's irrigation dripping directly at the base of a stem or water bubbling at dirt-level. You can't get much more direct than an olla (pronounced oy-ya ). In the irrigation world, an olla is a clay pot, usually with a round bottom and a longish thin neck that is planted in the dirt next to plants that need water.  The dirt is mounded around the pot so that only the end of the neck shows. Water is poured into the opening to fill the buried pot. The clay absorbs water that in turn is absorbed by the dry earth surrounding it.  The plant gets a slow steady supply of water. Because the pot is buried, there's little exposure to the air and evaporatio...