When people find out that I have compost under my bed, surprised and confused are usually their reactions.
“So you take dirt from outside and put it in a bucket?” one person asked.
“No, it’s dirt that has been created by these red-worms I have. And every other week or so I put something like a banana peel in it,” I explain.
I only have it now as a sort of transition before I get a house off campus. Granted, under a bed in a college dormitory isn’t the ideal location, but I make due. At the end of last year, a friend who graduated didn’t have anywhere to put his compost, so I said that I would take it.
It’s not cruel, having the worms under a bed. They like dark places, I think. And I lift the lid every once in a while, to let them play. Plus I try to mix up the foods, though it is usually a banana peel. Sometimes I lose things in the compost, because I leave it open and something falls off my bed. I think my glasses might be in it now, but I haven’t checked.
Some people think it’s gross, but I think it’s symbolic of what a great cycle composting is. Maybe the idea of dirt under my bed is strange, but I keep it away from most of my other stuff. Pretty much. And my roommate embraces it, too. Or she doesn’t complain, anyway.