We do not remember days; we remember moments. ~ Cesare PaveseI built a composter last summer. Nothing wimpy or small. It's big enough to accommodate all of the waste of our daily vegetable and fruit consumption: watermelon, sweet corn, pineapple, and zucchini... and when I make vegetable soup, the potato and carrot peelings, onions, cabbage, and celery...will find a handy repository. And some of our yard waste like grass clippings and leaves will find their way inside.
In the photo is some catalyst for my composter, rich organic ingredients hauled with my vintage aluminum wheel barrow. This garden friend holds fertile memories like compost.
You see, that wheelbarrow was willed to me by my former neighbour, a good natured Ukranian who lived to be in his early 90's. He tilled his acre of rich black soil and grew carrots and dill and pickles. He was a peddler who collected the bounty of our surrounding farming community and took them to the market in the city.
One day he said, "Paul, you are a gardener at heart, that is plain to see. When I need to move from this place I am leaving you my wheelbarrow. I think you will take care of it and appreciate it."
I think of Louis as I fill my composter with rich black soil and organic material. I think of my trusty wheelbarrow at least 50 years old. I think of rich memories of a neighbour who always had a smile, a joke, and a positive inclination amidst the difficulties and challenges of his life.
This is my submission to Magpie Tales for the week, a place to court the muses.
