We struck gold, black gold, Texas tea

In more ways than one. We are sailing again, on Lake Champlain. As pretty as Maine without lobster traps. In fact the lake is often more than a hundred feet deep.

We anchored in a lovely bay, all by ourselves, just a half hour from home.

Our home port has the High Peaks as a backdrop. And our little dink looked so cute bobbing and waiting for us at the mooring.

But now for the real news. Simple composting works. I began a pile last year when Hurricane Irene damaged our bridge and made garbage pickup impossible. It was simply a ring of chicken wire. Yesterday, I shoveled 3 plastic toboggan’s worth (poor woman’s wheel barrow) and distributed our recycled kitchen waste to enhance our sand. It had compressed, broken down and even had worms. The critters seem to really like coffee. The clean filters were littered in a path behind the pile.


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