I may or may not have solved my food trash problem.
After doing some research, I discovered that there is a way to avoid putting, shall we say, unnecessary food directly into the trash. Yes, now I have one more reason for my neighbors to think I'm crazy. There's a trash bin on my patio that I regularly talk to, water, and put food scraps in. I like to think of its occupants as the hamster for people not responsible enough to have a hamster. Yes, oh yes. I now have a worm bin. I got the doings from a couple of local stores and the worms from my aunt's backyard.
Now let me tell you, I am currently thankful that my neighborhood apparently has had a run on worm bins. Otherwise I would have gotten even more weird looks than I already did when I went to the customer service desk at a hardware chain and said I needed peat moss "because I have worms." While the guy behind the counter mentally filed that one away, the manager for the garden section stepped up, fortunately for us all, and that's when I learned about the other worm owners in my area.
Anyway, the worms are now installed, and I have even named three of the five or so that I am hoping are still alive and reproducing in there. (Wormeo, Juliet, and Tina after Tina the Llama from "Napeoleon Dynamite". Why? Because part of my worm ownership learning curve involved standing over their trash bin and commanding them to eat all the good food I was providing them with.) Hopefully they will actually eat the food, I will feel a lack of guilt about disposing of things like onion skins, and less trash will go in my trashcan. Hopefully. Otherwise I may have started a small-scale composting operation, which will probably be even unpopular with the neighbors than my current practice of going out several times a day to talk to a plastic trashcan.
After doing some research, I discovered that there is a way to avoid putting, shall we say, unnecessary food directly into the trash. Yes, now I have one more reason for my neighbors to think I'm crazy. There's a trash bin on my patio that I regularly talk to, water, and put food scraps in. I like to think of its occupants as the hamster for people not responsible enough to have a hamster. Yes, oh yes. I now have a worm bin. I got the doings from a couple of local stores and the worms from my aunt's backyard.
Now let me tell you, I am currently thankful that my neighborhood apparently has had a run on worm bins. Otherwise I would have gotten even more weird looks than I already did when I went to the customer service desk at a hardware chain and said I needed peat moss "because I have worms." While the guy behind the counter mentally filed that one away, the manager for the garden section stepped up, fortunately for us all, and that's when I learned about the other worm owners in my area.
Anyway, the worms are now installed, and I have even named three of the five or so that I am hoping are still alive and reproducing in there. (Wormeo, Juliet, and Tina after Tina the Llama from "Napeoleon Dynamite". Why? Because part of my worm ownership learning curve involved standing over their trash bin and commanding them to eat all the good food I was providing them with.) Hopefully they will actually eat the food, I will feel a lack of guilt about disposing of things like onion skins, and less trash will go in my trashcan. Hopefully. Otherwise I may have started a small-scale composting operation, which will probably be even unpopular with the neighbors than my current practice of going out several times a day to talk to a plastic trashcan.
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