Author Archives: Melissa | Growing Green Nutrition

Trashed: A Correction

All this time I have been under the mistaken impression that the city composted the contents of the “Yard Waste Only” bins. Well, you know what they say about making assumptions! Click on over and see the comment from the City of St. Louis Refuse Division.

All my beautiful, clean, mostly organic vegetable and fruit trimmings that would make such lovely compost when mixed with leaves and grass clippings? Straight to the landfill. My dumpster diving? Not necessary.

The upside? This revelation provides that extra bit of incentive I apparently need to move from contemplation to action (please excuse the nerdy health behavior theory reference) on vermicomposting. I just requested Worms Eat My Garbage from the library. With any luck, I’ll have the book in my hot little hands by the weekend.

Dumpster diving

Trash collection in St. Louis consists of shared dumpsters in the alleys.  All alleys have two kinds of dumpsters, one for trash and one for yard waste.  The trash dumpsters are clearly marked, “No yard waste,” and the yard waste dumpsters are clearly marked, “Yard waste only.”  The city collects the yard waste for compost.  Since we rent, we have not started our own compost pile, so we use the yard waste bins for our vegetable and fruit scraps.

The problem?  Some people fail to comprehend that, “Yard waste only,” means, “Do not put your regular trash here.”  Or they comprehend it and are too lazy to walk 30 feet farther to the appropriate dumpster.

I can’t stand to see non-compostable matter in the yard waste dumpster because it means that either a) everything in the dumpster, including the yard waste, will be thrown away, or b) the contents of the dumpster will be composted, with trash mixed in to it.

The other day, I noticed some non-sanctioned items on the very bottom of the almost empty yard waste dumpster.  The dumpster with, “Yard waste only,” clearly printed on it.  I rolled up my sleeves, gritted my teeth, and dove in to correct the matter.

Immediately after, I looked out our front window and saw that someone had set a million polystyrene take-out containers on the top of our recycling bin.  Not only does our recycling program not accept polystyrene (or any #6 plastics), but the presence of forbidden materials in our bin can cause them to skip our weekly pick-up.  Can you hear my screams of frustration through the computer?

In conclusion, memo to my neighbors: 1)there is a reason the yard waste dumpster says, “Yard waste only,” and 2)please do not put your dirty non-recyclable trash in my recycling bin.  It may come as a shock, but I don’t want those containers, and I don’t particularly enjoy pulling stuff out of the dumpster.

New Year eats

I recently stumbled across the southern tradition of eating black-eyed peas, greens, and cornbread on New Year’s Day.  We purchased some locally grown black-eyed peas and kale at the farmer’s market recently, so we’re ready to start the New Year on the right foot.  Or is that the right stomach?

I will either make some kind of soup/stew with the black-eyed peas and kale, or serve black-eyed peas and rice on a bed of kale — cornbread on the side.  If the dish turns out well, I’ll post the recipe here.

Happy New Year!

Business and pleasure

Last night, as I passed my lonely and forlorn bike in the basement, I ran my hand along it, and said, “Mama still loves you.”  In truth, we had not been apart for all that long, because I rode it on Sunday (in the snow, no less).   I’m just still not happy about trading my bike commute for a car commute.

This morning (the start of a four day weekend — great happiness), I finally convinced myself to bundle up and leave the house.  I planned to bike to the grocery store and then straight back home, but it was warmer than I expected, and I was on a roll.  I rode right past the grocery store and into the park for a bit of extra bike action.

This detour led me to stop by Local Harvest (a small neighborhood grocery store), where I found a treasure — a big, beautiful head of locally-grown red cabbage.  My eyes were almost bigger than my panniers, but I managed to stuff everything into them and make it home on my fully-laden bike.

Christmas wishes

In our country of material abundance and excess, may you find true happiness in what matters most — relationships with others and the world.  May you give generously from the heart and walk lightly on the earth in the New Year.