A proud man and his compost bin

We love compost around here, but we've never had much success with producing our own. We have a mulch heap, but it's also our repository for green waste from the garden and the chooks love to scratch around in there too. The end result is a scattered heap of passionfruit prunings adorned with old Twinings teabags. Neither have we ever really taken the time to learn about the science of composting. The idea of there being a 'right' way to dispose of last night's dinner scraps has never really sat well with me. However after glimpsing the world's most perfect compost bin ever (or so we surmised) on an episode of that new backyards show on Sunday nights, Mark was inspired to create...this.
Two compartments, on stilts above the ground and with lids (to foil the rats), with wire on the bottom, which will allow the compost as it's formed to fall into a neat and elegant pile on a platform underneath the bins, from where it can be easily shoveled into a waiting wheelbarrow. In theory. We know there are no certainties when it comes to the dark art of composting, especially if you're as slapdash as we are. But we're hopeful. If nothing else, we have finally managed to engage Martha with the world of decomposing organic matter (isn't this every parent's dream?). We're not sure yet whether this will prove to be a good or bad thing. I guess this will only become obvious in a month or two...once she has learnt how to clamber up those slats.

PS No, Martha did not retrieve that piece of cake from the slops!

Brown baby

Her parents are pale and slow to tan, but this one has inherited her maternal grandfather's olive skin.

Bag lady

For the last few days Martha has been (literally) dragging around a tatty old plastic shopping bag filled with 'very important' scavenged items - nuts, squashed sultanas, broken pens, hair clips, a mobile phone - from which she will not be parted (like a Womble, makin' a use for the things that she finds, things that the everyday folk leave behind). I've been wanting to make a little bag for her for ages, but just haven't had (or made) the time to sit down and do it. But today, I could bear that horrible plastic no longer. In a forty minute gap between two work interviews I madly cut and sewed at express speed to produce this. It's not my finest moment in handcrafting, but it was one of the most satisfying. As I was ironing it she was standing beside me going 'woof! woof! arf! arf!' (she likes to mix up her dog barks) and when I handed it over, she squealed with delight and ran off to fill it with...stuff.
Er...yes, that is a pair of my undies around her neck. Apparently she feels naked without them.

When we finally unhooked the bag from her arm so that she could have her bath, I had a little peek at what was inside. That's right girls, never head out without a disembodied action man face. You never know when you might need it.