Confession: After Penelope was born, I gave my compost bin the middle finger. I just couldn’t do it anymore. Something had to give and composting was one of those things that got pushed to the back burner, along with showering, and wearing anything other than yoga pants. Sorry, I take that back: other than sweat pants. It was a fancy day if I put on yoga pants.
I have been composting since I was 20 years old (if you’re new around here, I just turned 30). My first compost bin was a DIY version with chicken coop wire. I really wish I had a picture to show you! And I wish I had a picture to show you of my now husband’s face when he came over to my house for the first time and asked “What the hell is that?!” My second composter is one I got from God knows where, and it was this huge stackable contraption thing. Hated it. Third composter is one I got from the city they were selling for a good price one Earth day a couple of years ago. And it was ok, just hard to mix up.