Compost Accessories

When one has acquired a fabulously fabulous compost bin (see previous post), it only seems proper that, as a now fashionable compostor, one ought to accessorise.  One has the requisite accessories, of course; a pitchfork, a hose for wetting down the compost, buckets for carrying the compost, and a strong back (mostly Daniel's) for turning the compost.  But there was something missing, something that would make me an uber fashionista in the oh-so-glamourous world of compost making.

Enter the trommel.  Yes, the trommel.  One really is not at one's composting best without one....

This, my friends, is a trommel:

I don't know about you, but my compost is generally full of twigs, shrubbery and plants that haven't quite rotted down, and those rotten stinking little labels they stick on all the fruit and veg because apparently identifying a snow pea can be a chore (it's true - I can't tell you how many times the checkout person has asked me what snow peas are.  Ginger's another favourite).

What the trommel allows me to do is sift my compost - out go the twigs and sticks - and what is left is luvverly, luvverly black gold.

My "groundskeeper" (that's him on the left making some adjustments, and that's his term, not mine) developed our trommel using scrap bits of wood, a few old bicycle wheels with the spokes removed, some little wheels, and some stuff they call hardware cloth here, but which I can't think of another name for at the moment.

Here are some details:

What you do is put the trommel over a wheelbarrow, chuck the compost in at one end, and start spinning.  It drops the luvverly compost into the wheelbarrow and kicks (most of) the twigs, shrubbery and plants (but not those stinking little labels, unfortunately) out the other end so you can pull out the twigs and return the not-quite-rotted stuff to the compost bin for another go round.  Brilliant!

That stuff on the bottom right?  That's the sifted stuff that will make my plants happy, and stop me from cursing the twigs, shrubbery and other misshapen lumps that I find in what I used to think was my finished compost. Quite a difference from the raw stuff on the left, wouldn't you say?

Wonderful.  Abso-bloody-lutely wonderful.

You know Dahlings, I think it's safe to say that thanks to my groundskeeper I am now an uber fashionista in the oh-so-glamourous world of compost making. Ta-ta for now!