Monthly Archives: April 2009

Category: What’s Missing?

What’s Missing?

Point out a compost issue not covered by this article, or ask a question about composting that’s not answered or at least addressed anywhere in the Composter Connection site, and win a $25 gift certificate from Planet Natural.

(The “or at least addressed” is meant to cover stuff that’s unanswerable or information for which I refer people to other sources or sites.)

Oh—just to take all the fun out of it—Compost Tea doesn’t count. We’re doing a separate article on that. Sorry.

Entries in this category can range from standard-issue to glaring.

–standard-issue omission: The “duh,” category. This is the one that will make me smack my forehead and cry, “I can’t believe I left that out!” while everyone around says, “Well, duh.”

–most glaring omission: This one—oh, when I realize I left this one out, my numbed lips will shape no words save these: “The horror—the horror,” as everyone else at the cocktail party moves away from me, muttering to each other, “She wrote an article on composting and didn’t mention that?” —the mutters growing gradually to a dull roar until the crowd as one moves to toss their drinks in my direction, but just as they draw back their arms,

  “Wait!” a voice cries, and,

  “Saved!” I think; “a voice of kindness and reason at last—”

  “—why waste good liquor?”

  And to cries of “Right!” and “Right on!” they all turn their backs on me and drain their glasses, giving rise to the “anti-toast” and simultaneously proving once again that there actually is something worse than having an entire roomful of people toss their drinks in your face.

Submit your entries as comments. Thanks!

Compost Challenge: What's wrong with this article?

Talk about going out on a limb. On Tuesday, I rashly announced that prizes would be presented to those who could suggest things missing from my extremely long article on compost. I haven't even put up the official rules yet, and already I've been presented with a composting question I didn't cover. (Thanks, Heather.) The question, a quite reasonable one about manure, can be viewed, by those of you who are eager to witness my come-uppance, in the comment section of Tuesday's post.

But of course, you don't have to merely witness my humiliation; you can participate! You can contribute! And all under the guise of helping me improve the article!

(You know that expression "Rue the day?" I suspect that my own passing acquaintance with it will shortly deepen to intimacy.)

The owner of PN, Eric Vinge, who commissioned this article and who put it up on his Composter Connection site in record time, has agreed to sponsor the contest referred to a couple of days ago. So here's what you do: Think of something that should have been included in  “Compost: in the Bin, in the Garden, and in the Environment” but isn't, or locate what seems to you the most trivial fact in the wole article, or devise an argument for including a highly un-compost-like item, and win a $25 gift-certificate at Planet Natural.

To those of you who have been breathlessly awaiting the official contest rules, I can now say, Breathe!

Tuesday's post mentioned only one category (“What's Missing”), but three days on bread and water while being allowed to listen only to Herman's Hermits convinced the judges to add several others. Here, then, are the official rules, as agreed upon by the board of international judges:

What's Missing?

Point out a compost issue not covered by this article, or ask a question about composting that's not answered or at least addressed anywhere in the Composter Connection site, and win a $25 gift certificate from Planet Natural.

(The “or at least addressed” is meant to cover stuff that's unanswerable or information for which I refer people to other sources or sites.)

Oh—just to take all the fun out of it—Compost Tea doesn't count. We're doing a separate article on that. Sorry.

Entries in this category can range from standard-issue to glaring.

–standard-issue omission: The “duh,” category. This is the one that will make me smack my forehead and cry, “I can't believe I left that out!” while everyone around says, “Well, duh.”

–most glaring omission: This one—oh, when I realize I left this one out, my numbed lips will shape no words save these: “The horror—the horror,” as everyone else at the cocktail party moves away from me, muttering to each other, “She wrote an article on composting and didn't mention that?” —the mutters growing gradually to a dull roar until the crowd as one moves to toss their drinks in my direction, but just as they draw back their arms,

  “Wait!” a voice cries, and,

  “Saved!” I think; “a voice of kindness and reason at last—”

  “—why waste good liquor?”

  And to cries of “Right!” and “Right on!” they all turn their backs on me and drain their glasses, giving rise to the “anti-toast” and simultaneously proving once again that there actually is something worse than having an entire roomful of people toss their drinks in your face.

For the creatively inclined, we offer the following whimsical category:

The Kitchen Sink

–most tangential omission: What is the least relevant item that I “should” have included? Can you somehow make a case that the Empire State Building should have been in the article? Or pencil erasers? Why? Where?

This category presents contestants with the task of establishing a connection, however tenuous, between compost and—something.  Let us know where you think this item belongs.

ON THE OTHER HAND, some might think that the last thing this site needs is more—well, of anything. For those, we offer the following category:

Enough already!

Name what you consider to be either the least likely or the most trivial fact, story, graph, or photograph in the whole site.

–most trivial: Name what you consider the most trivial fact in the article, the one that made you clutch your hair and cry, “Why this? With wars raging, seas rising, the Dow in the negative numbers and Small Beetle still missing, she bothers with this?”

–least likely: This is the Kitchen Sink turned on its head—the item in the article that out of context, you'd be never think came out of an article on compost.

I'm hoping to get enough of these so that readers can vote for the winner.

Finally, there's this:

Up for Grabs

This lets the judges grant an award to an entry that may not fit into any of the above categories but that clearly deserves recognition, if only because its author has taken the judges hostage and is once again threatening them with a diet of nothing but Barry Manilow.

JUST TO CLARIFY:

•    The contest refers to the composting article only, not to the items for sale. The article appears in the left side-bar in green type.

•    Multiple entries are encouraged. (The more the better.)

•    A prize will be awarded in each category.

•    We're not sure what we'll do for international winners, but we'll work something out. (Some items can't be shipped overseas, at least legally, and Eric prefers to remain on the right side of the law at present. His daughter is only seven.)

•    Entries will be accepted through May 17th. That's this year, 2009.

Post entries in the pages on the right sidebar; they're labeled by category, which should make things easier.

Have at it, people.

Compost Challenge: What’s wrong with this article?

Talk about going out on a limb. On Tuesday, I rashly announced that prizes would be presented to those who could suggest things missing from my extremely long article on compost. I haven't even put up the official rules yet, and already I've been presented with a composting question I didn't cover. (Thanks, Heather.) The question, a quite reasonable one about manure, can be viewed, by those of you who are eager to witness my come-uppance, in the comment section of Tuesday’s post.

But of course, you don't have to merely witness my humiliation; you can participate! You can contribute! And all under the guise of helping me improve the article!

(You know that expression "Rue the day?" I suspect that my own passing acquaintance with it will shortly deepen to intimacy.)

The owner of PN, Eric Vinge, who commissioned this article and who put it up on his Composter Connection site in record time, has agreed to sponsor the contest referred to a couple of days ago. So here's what you do: Think of something that should have been included in  “Compost: in the Bin, in the Garden, and in the Environment” but isn’t, or locate what seems to you the most trivial fact in the wole article, or devise an argument for including a highly un-compost-like item, and win a $25 gift-certificate at Planet Natural.

To those of you who have been breathlessly awaiting the official contest rules, I can now say, Breathe!

Tuesday's post mentioned only one category (“What’s Missing”), but three days on bread and water while being allowed to listen only to Herman’s Hermits convinced the judges to add several others. Here, then, are the official rules, as agreed upon by the board of international judges:

What’s Missing?

Point out a compost issue not covered by this article, or ask a question about composting that’s not answered or at least addressed anywhere in the Composter Connection site, and win a $25 gift certificate from Planet Natural.

(The “or at least addressed” is meant to cover stuff that’s unanswerable or information for which I refer people to other sources or sites.)

Oh—just to take all the fun out of it—Compost Tea doesn’t count. We’re doing a separate article on that. Sorry.

Entries in this category can range from standard-issue to glaring.

–standard-issue omission: The “duh,” category. This is the one that will make me smack my forehead and cry, “I can’t believe I left that out!” while everyone around says, “Well, duh.”

–most glaring omission: This one—oh, when I realize I left this one out, my numbed lips will shape no words save these: “The horror—the horror,” as everyone else at the cocktail party moves away from me, muttering to each other, “She wrote an article on composting and didn’t mention that?” —the mutters growing gradually to a dull roar until the crowd as one moves to toss their drinks in my direction, but just as they draw back their arms,

  “Wait!” a voice cries, and,

  “Saved!” I think; “a voice of kindness and reason at last—”

  “—why waste good liquor?”

  And to cries of “Right!” and “Right on!” they all turn their backs on me and drain their glasses, giving rise to the “anti-toast” and simultaneously proving once again that there actually is something worse than having an entire roomful of people toss their drinks in your face.

For the creatively inclined, we offer the following whimsical category:

The Kitchen Sink

–most tangential omission: What is the least relevant item that I “should” have included? Can you somehow make a case that the Empire State Building should have been in the article? Or pencil erasers? Why? Where?

This category presents contestants with the task of establishing a connection, however tenuous, between compost and—something.  Let us know where you think this item belongs.

ON THE OTHER HAND, some might think that the last thing this site needs is more—well, of anything. For those, we offer the following category:

Enough already!

Name what you consider to be either the least likely or the most trivial fact, story, graph, or photograph in the whole site.

–most trivial: Name what you consider the most trivial fact in the article, the one that made you clutch your hair and cry, “Why this? With wars raging, seas rising, the Dow in the negative numbers and Small Beetle still missing, she bothers with this?”

–least likely: This is the Kitchen Sink turned on its head—the item in the article that out of context, you’d be never think came out of an article on compost.

I’m hoping to get enough of these so that readers can vote for the winner.

Finally, there’s this:

Up for Grabs

This lets the judges grant an award to an entry that may not fit into any of the above categories but that clearly deserves recognition, if only because its author has taken the judges hostage and is once again threatening them with a diet of nothing but Barry Manilow.

JUST TO CLARIFY:

•    The contest refers to the composting article only, not to the items for sale. The article appears in the left side-bar in green type.

•    Multiple entries are encouraged. (The more the better.)

•    A prize will be awarded in each category.

•    We’re not sure what we’ll do for international winners, but we’ll work something out. (Some items can’t be shipped overseas, at least legally, and Eric prefers to remain on the right side of the law at present. His daughter is only seven.)

•    Entries will be accepted through May 17th. That's this year, 2009.

Post entries in the pages on the right sidebar; they're labeled by category, which should make things easier.

Have at it, people.

About me

I’m a wannabe Westerner, a city girl in search of greener pastures, always climbing trees just to get high, climbing the mountain to see what I can see. My father claims that my first word was “horse,” an unfortunate choice on my part since I grew up in Manhattan—not the town fifteen miles from where I live now in Bozeman, Montana, but the island between the Hudson and East rivers.

So it’s got to be one of life’s great ironies that here in the wide open West, I’m struggling to raise vegetables on a small urban lot with more than its share of trees. Is this fair? Is this right? I mean, really. I spend my NYC childhood reading Laura Ingalls Wilder and dreaming of the West, and I finally get here, I make it, I SUCCEED, and here I am, in a quintessentially Western town, all ranches and skiing, and I have less space than I did at my halfway-to-Montana house, in Minnesota.

Nonetheless, I persevere—bravely, nobly, humbly.

—Kate Gardner
themanicgardener@gmail.com

Contest Judges Held Hostage to Herman's Hermits

The other two large  
Robins eating juniper berries. If you click on the picture, you'll be able to see the berry in the bottom bird's beak. Notice all that snow on the roof behind the upper bird.

There was supposed to be a post about contest rules yesterday, but there wasn't. Such is life.

It was tax day. And there was all this snow, a foot of it since Tuesday. Also birds. It was necessary, therefore, to take photographs. And to go skiing.

(Actually, the judges were taken hostage by a crew of irate gardening fanatics wielding sharpened hoes, heavy hoses, and the Herman's Hermits' complete playlist. They have commandeered my study, locked the judges inside, and are demanding that the rules be expanded to allow a wider range of categories.

The cries of outrage and pain, audible even over “I'm ‘Enery the Eighth, I am,” have ceased, so I assume that progress is being made and that the finished rules will be slipped under the door shortly. I hope so, because I am getting very tired of “Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Daughter.”)

In the meantime, I will do what I can with earplugs and a woofer blasting the White Album.