On Being Mary Lou Retton

We have been a’tumblin over here.

And in one sentence: I love it.

 

In a few more sentences…here’s what I think of it:

It makes me feel so efficient. First off, I feel the need to list the things that I am not. {Compare and judge as you feel led.} Here they are, in no particular order.

A cloth diaperer.

A watcher of Fox News.

A member of Greenpeace.

A Keith Urban fan.

{Don’t really know what the meaning of that last one is, but Maddee will appreciate it…}

 

But I tell you that to say: while I’m all for being green, everybody has their limit. And the Mantis ComposTumbler fits into mine quite nicely.

The efficiency thing has to do with how much food I’m no longer putting down the disposal. All that kitchen waste goes right into a bowl that gets taken out at sunset, if I time it right, for what I’m now mentally referring to as “mommy take a breath time.”

I expected the smell to be a smell, if you know what I mean. {See above re: not a cloth diaperer.} And this was my main concern as we have a small-ish backyard and the best location is pretty close to the house. But the smell… it’s just not. When you open the lid you can smell it, but it smells almost sweet.

{Did I just hand in my last I-am-not-a-weirdo card?}

 

So, the short and not at all comprehensive list of what has made it into the Tumbler thus far:

Dryer lint

David’s hair after I cut it {head’s up, he is NOT a good tipper.}

Eggshells

Everything that gets peeled off a vegetable before you make a chicken pot pie

Peach peelings because a family member Who Shall Not Be Named once peeled a peach for bitty E, and so now when I don’t peel it for her she nibbles right up to the peeling. {I am working on forgiveness but I feel it is a long, arduous road ahead…}

 

Here is a list of the items the bitties have wanted to put into the Tumbler:

Themselves

Individually wrapped cheese slice wrappers

Play-doh remnants

 

And while I do wonder what the half-life of a play-doh molecule would be, I’m just not up for ruining my new Tumbler for that experiment. Plus my money would be on a trilliondy deca-years anyway.

 

I have found all of the manuals that came with the Tumbler to be both handy and well-written. This aids in confidence upon beginning while also keeping one from throwing items like wrenches. {Here’s the link to my post about putting the tumbler together in case you missed it and have made it this far in this post. Your cookie is in the mail.}

I appreciate the wording in the Mantis “How To Compost” manual, especially on the carbon nitrogen ratio page. They use such phrases as “don’t panic” and “in case you’re not a mathematician.” It’s like they know me. I feel so understood.

While I will spare you a shot of the inside of my Tumbler {now who owes who a cookie, eh?}, I will assure you that it is looking a fabulous shade of dark, rich black in there. The kind of dark, rich black that can cover a multitude of sins…ok, mostly rose-colored ignorance , but let’s just pretend there’s more than one.

Still…something tells me that next season, I’m going to stick the landing.