Being fifty-something, I like to do my bit for the planet.
I’m not consistent. I’m not a tree-hugger. I don’t preach about the environment to the world.
I just try to make better choices, whenever I can.
Today, when I spied my unused Bokashi bucket in a cupboard, I knew I had a choice to make.
I’d bought the bucket a few years back after my sister RH introduced me to this alternative to composting – a no-odour way to recycle your kitchen waste into garden nutrients and thereby reduce landfill.
The online shop where I purchased mine is no more, but I’ve found them retailed here and in lots of other online stores.
I eagerly purchased a starter kit … and got started.
I admit, it’s much easier to throw your kitchen waste out in the big rubbish bin, rather than unlid the Bokashi bucket, tamp down the waste and cover it in a thin layer of microbe-rich Bokashi (which resembles fine wood shavings).
As the waste ferments, you tap off the nutrient-laden liquid from the bottom of the bucket, dilute it and apply it to your garden.
After three or four weeks (for an average family), the bucket is full and you bury the contents about 30cm down in a garden bed. It will compost away quickly, enriching your soil as it does.
Sounds like a lot of work, doesn’t it? Probably not for a dedicated tree-hugger but, for me, the motivation expired after four or so Bokashi cycles.
I tired of the bucket occupying precious real estate on my kitchen benchtop and I hid it away in a cupboard, where my conscience couldn’t see it.
Until, I found it again today.
A grumpy old woman voice in my head shouted that life is too short to bother with Bokashi.
But my inner hippy (the gorgeous twenty-something Stevie Nicks look-alike I mentioned over here) batted her eyelids and implored that I owe it to the next generation.
She is very compelling.
So, my Bokashi bucket is out of the closet again.
I’ve re-committed to the process, knowing it will make me more mindful about food waste.
I expect my herb garden will thrive as it soaks up the juicy nutrients.
I just hope that grumpy old woman wasn’t right.
If she starts up again, I plan to quieten her down with wine … and maybe chocolate (just to be sure).