Composeur

For my birthday, I asked for a compost tumbler. My loving parents were kind enough to indulge me.

This weekend, I finally set it up. I find that I am strangely compelled to eat more fruits and vegetables, just to have something to put into the compost. I don't eat enough fresh fruits and vegetables as it is, and I don't really have a lot of eggshells or teabags to add to the mix. I produce no coffee grounds. Someone else mows my lawn and takes the clippings. This may be a very small composting effort.

I would like to think that a compost tumbler marks me as a real country-dweller, but am afraid that having a brand-new store-bought bin on rollers for composting (as opposed to a compost pile) marks me as a wannabe city-slicker transplant.

Really, the composting is a big highlight of the weekend. I also:

• attended a lecture on how our local mountain is more than a mountain,
• paid a dollar for water at a bar where a pint of beer was $1.50,
  
• saw my sister and her husband on their return to the U.S. from a vacation in Indonesia, and
• watched most of Season 3 of The Facts of Life and several episodes of Psych on Hulu. (WARNING: Hulu is fully dangerous. Do not go there if you are not prepared to devote all your time to watching stuff. Possibly, this is less of a concern if you actually have access to TV reception.)