Turning Garden Scraps into Black Gold – Making Compost

 Right then — pull up a chair, pour a mug of tea, and let me take you on a journey I’ve been fossicking around in for years: making my own compost. Now, we’ve all heard the phrase ‘black gold’ thrown around by every gardening magazine and TV expert going, but I’ll be honest with you — once you’ve got a good compost system humming, you’ll see why they call it that. It’s like gold for bedding plants, borders, and veg beds… and best of all, it doesn’t cost a penny!

1. What I’m Composting (And How I Do It)

 I’m obsessive about getting the best out of every scrap and clipping I can muster, whether at home or down on the allotment. My composting life pretty much starts at home, even though I have two lovely compost bins at the allotments — more about those later.

At home, my system is fairly simple but effective:

• Greens — That’s kitchen veg peelings, fruit scraps, grass cuttings, tender prunings and various soft bits from both the garden and allotment.

• Browns — Everything from shredded cardboard and paper (Iris is a champion paper-shredder, by the way), to dry leaves and garden waste I’ve collected on a dry day.

Mixing these two is crucial. Greens give the nitrogen, browns give the carbon, and together they feed the critters that do all the hard work for you. Aim for roughly twice as much browns as greens so you don’t get a soggy, stinky mess — and trust me, I’ve learned this the hard way!

Iris, bless her, keeps the shabby pile of bags and boxes of cardboard and paper under control by shredding them up. It’s a bit like giving the compost heap its breakfast cereal — all nice and small so it breaks down quicker.

2. How I Build the Heap

Now here’s where it starts to feel like you’re feeding a great beast. You don’t just chuck everything on in one go and hope for the best, oh no:

• First layer — dry stuff like shredded cardboard or dry leaves. This gives airspace at the bottom so things don’t go anaerobic.

• Next — a generous layer of greens, then more browns. Alternate like you’re making a lasagne, and don’t worry too much about perfection — nature’s a forgiving fellow.

Keep it moist (but not soggy). Think “wrung-out sponge” rather than “sopping wet sock.” If it gets too dry, things slow down faster than a lawn mower with a blunt blade. If it’s too wet, you’ll end up with smells and a heap that resembles something best left to the worms.

Every time I add a fresh load of greens or kitchen scraps, I bury them under a sea of browns so flies don’t find a banquet. It’s a bit like burying treasure — except the treasure is coffee grounds and tea bags, and the pirates are fruit flies.

3. Turning and Aeration: Talk to the Beast!

Now listen — I’ve heard all sorts of composting gurus talk about “hot bins” and thermometers that make you feel like you need to be a scientist. But in my experience, regular turning with a garden fork or aerator will keep the pile breathing nicely and keep those microbes happy.

I aim to turn the lot every couple of weeks, and I’ll tell you something: nothing beats shoving a fork in and seeing that lovely steaming pile of goodness in the cooler months. It’s enough to make a man feel poetic.

4. The Allotment Bins vs. Home Heap

Out on the allotment I’ve got two proper bins — the old faithfuls that help me rotate a year in one, a year out. But honestly, most of my composting magic happens at home because that’s where the bulk of my “greens and browns” collection is. Heads up: if you’re relying on bins alone, make sure you keep an eye on moisture and airflow in them too — a closed bin with no air is just an expensive stewpot.

So while I use the allotment bins to keep things tidy and in order, the messy heap at home does the heavy lifting. That temporary home-made pile may look a right jumble now while I shuffle things around to make room for the new shed and moved greenhouses, but give it time — that pile will turn into gold just as happily. 

5. Signs It’s Ready to Use

Now for the bit we all get impatient about: “When’s it ready?!” Good compost should be dark brown, crumbly, and smell of rich woodland — not sour or rotten. If there’s still half a carrot and a tea bag you can recognise in there, it’s not ready yet. But once it starts looking like fine soil, you can spread it in tubs, baskets or borders and watch plants leap to life.

A little trick some gardeners swear by is sowing something quick-growing in the compost — if seeds like radishes or marigolds pop up healthy and strong, you’re golden.

6. Why I Compost (and Why You Should Too)

Composting isn’t just about getting free fertiliser for your plants (though that’s a very nice perk). It’s about closing the loop — turning kitchen scraps and garden waste into something that feeds the very soil that feeds us. It reduces waste, builds soil life, and when you’re out turning it on a chilly morning and see steam trail up like magic, it just feels right.

So whether you’re a seasoned plot holder or a new gardener with a bucket of peelings, give composting a go. Start small, be patient, and don’t worry about being perfect. Even a humble heap of scraps and shredded cardboard will reward you with bags of rich, earthy goodness. Just like any good recipe, it’s the love and attention you put in that makes all the difference.