Onward March

Thanks to Anthony of 17th Street, my most gregarious neighbor, for the marigold seeds. He said they'll grow into bushes, not like the squatty store bought ones. I'm supposed to plant the seeds one to a hole, no ganging up. Meanwhile my composter is already half full and I've only been using it for a month and a half. Let me remind myself that it's the magic of the cycle that's the point, not the quantity. I love adding the scraps to the pail, it makes me feel sane, and I'm no stranger to the generosity of soil and the sweet smell of its breath.

So far the composter has stood up to the local fauna, except on one occasion when I found the top had been tossed aside. We'll see what happens when the weather warms up.