For about five minutes we stare, exasperated at the compost bin. It’s an odd mix of soil, weeds, plastic bags, crisp packets and eggshells. The latter three are not renowned for promoting plant growth. If they did, my kitchen would resemble the Garden of Eden by now. It becomes apparent that something should be done about this situation, so Matt and I set about filtering out the unwanted rubbish from the pile of degrading compost. We then proceed to dump it on to the growing mountain of garden waste. There is still a degree of uncertainty over where this rubbish is ultimately going to end up, although we all agree that it will be deposited in a bin of sorts… somewhere. While Matt and I are having compost fun, the other two members of our party: Wes and Fatima, are busy de-weeding another bed. After some intense soil rummaging, the group is assured by their leader, Matt, of a solution to the bin crisis. I am also delighted by the promise of re-enforcements in the form of pole dancers. This naturally perks the group up and turns out be one of the most productive days yet.
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| Working hard under the shadow of the giant heap of waste. |
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| Is there any compost under there? |
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