After an inexcusable three-year hiatus, we are finally composting our kitchen waste again. We are both utterly ashamed that it took us three years in this house to get around to this. Now that it's done, I'm sure we'll both sleep a little better.

The photo shows our new setup. In the background, courtesy of junk pallets from the local Habitat for Humanity ReStore, is a yard waste composter. It's not very scientific, nor is it likely to produce high-quality compost, but it gives me a place to throw the big stuff, where it can slowly rot and decay as it sees fit. Best of all, the total cost for this wonderfully large bin was about $2 worth of three-inch decking screws. No, the corners are not square, but it's sturdy enough that I can jump in and out of it without having it collapse (please don't ask why I do this).

In the foreground is the compost bin I selected after an arduous and perilous journey through a maze of Websites offering compost bins for sale. I happen to live in a community where compost bins sell so slowly that none of the garden centers bother to stock them, so online was my only option. I say arduous, because there must be as many opinions about composters as there are compost bins in this great nation of ours. Let me add one more voice to the mix.

Rather than endorse some particular product - although the one I picked was a deliberate choice because it looked just like the one I got for free from a friend in Connecticut, and that was a great bin even though I broke the lid - I thought I'd summarize my travails and narrow down the options. If you want to buy a compost bin, as opposed to building your own--noble but not for all of us--or using heaps or other methods, the choices really boil down to four basic types.

• A square plastic bin with hinged lid, with sides that snap together. These typically have the little doors at the bottom to remove the finished compost. The key attribute here is it snaps together.


• A square plastic bin with sit-on-top lid, with sides that bolt together with nylon fasteners. These also have the little doors and come in sizes similar to the first type.


• Tumblers galore, which promise to produce lovely results in a few weeks. I had one of these once, hated it with a passion, and will never use one again. If you've had luck with one, please tell me what I did wrong.


• A catch-all category that I'll call the oddballs. Some of these are circular, and look like they've been cut out of massive plastic sewer pipes (example). Let's just say if it's not dark plastic and square or a tumbler, it goes in this group.

I was nearly enchanted by the round plastic bins in the last category, until my wife, ever the vigilant one, asked me how you get the compost out of the bottom with no door. Well, duh, should have noticed that. I'm also curious what kind of plastic goes into that pipe. The square bins are nearly all #2 plastic (high density polyethylene), which is generally considered harmless. It's also one of the commonly recycled plastics, so I was happy to see that the bin I purchased was 50% post-consumer waste.

I've already made my feelings about tumblers clear, but even were I not so strident, one should note that they like to be loaded and left alone, not constantly added to, which is hard when you're handling kitchen waste. Perhaps they work with other materials, but I've sworn them off. So it came down to the two square kinds. After reading hundreds of purchaser comments, I came to the conclusion that the snap together kind pops apart easily if you get in there with your pitchfork to turn your compost. Turning compost with my pitchfork is one of life's small pleasures, so that was a make-or-break attribute for me. Besides, with the screw-together kind, even if the chintzy nylon bolts fail, they can be easily replaced with galvanized steel. If the holes tear out, you can drill new ones.

OK, I said no endorsement, but I did buy this one. Really, though, it's just a plastic box, so decide which of the four types is best for your needs and composting style, find the cheapest source (try locally), and start composting.

If you're interested in making your own compost bin, try this simple (and cheap!) Storey pamphlet, or read Joshua's guide to building a compost bin, in the Gardenaut archives.

Bagging or burning your autumn leaves is so last season!

At least that's what I'm hearing in my neighborhood. There's a definite shift in perception regarding chemical fixes for lawns. The buzzwords around here are "compost tea," "soil food web," and "organic." I'm not sure how it happened. Many of these gardeners have been using chemical fertilizers and pesticides for years, but are now standard-bearers for simpler, cheaper, and safer alternatives to lawn care and gardening.

While I'm happy about the simpler, cheaper, and safer aspects, I'm also delighted that it's less work.

See, I don't mind raking leaves on a crisp, sunny day. But then I have to get rid of them. I can't stand the smoke from burning leaves (and in fact am perplexed why it is still popular and legal in many towns). Bagging is time-consuming, and then I get to pay the trash collector more to haul those extra bags to the landfill.

So I can really get behind the idea that my leaves are actually valuable, a kind of black gold waiting to happen. Not to be thrown away lightly. And they can be used in many ways:

• Mulch. Add 3-4 inches around the base of tender perennials, and 12 inches around the base of shrubs and over bulb beds.


• Composting now. Add leaves to your composting bin to provide the "brown" carbon component to balance out the green stuff you've thrown in.


• Composting later. Can't use all your leaves now? Save them in garbage bags to keep them dry -- you can use them next spring and summer when you start feeding the compost pile again.


• Lawn care. Mow over the leaves a few times to break them up, and let them add to the overall health of your lawn.


• Camouflage. Leave them on the lawn to hide the fact that 1) you didn't mow all summer, and 2) it's mostly clover and dandelions anyway.


• Satisfaction. Finding out that past lazy behaviors are actually acceptable gives a deep satisfaction that should last until spring.

If you're still not convinced and just want to get rid of those leaves easily, here's a thought: Forward this post to your gardener friends. Then surprise them tomorrow with a lovely bag of freshly-raked leaves. It should get you on the list for a plate of holiday cookies come December.