Doing the Green Bin Stomp
There are some things you can do without in the garden. Take leaf blowers for example. I’ve never been a big fan of leaf blowers; probably because they’re used so regularly round here by service gardeners to blow their problem onto someone else’s property, or the road. After which they usually migrate to my garden and head for the drains.
That flagrant disregard for dealing with your own problem would be very interesting if it got applied to sewage… Leaf blowers are a kind of modern horticultural version of ‘Gardyloo!’
Lawn aerators. I’ve got one, and using it it passes the time I suppose. But it’s fair to say my lawn isn’t the greatest advert for a grass-based space you could come across. Most lawns are a percentage of ryegrass, fescues and bluegrass. Mine is about 50/50. That’s 50% ryegrass and 50% moss. With the help of the lawn aerator I’ve managed to keep that percentage just about the same for the last two years.
However there’s one thing we cannot do without, and that’s our Kingston Council green bin. If it’s appropriate to express love for a polycarbonate receptacle, then we have BIG Love for our green bin. Both the wife and I are attentive to its needs, and it needs filling up every two weeks. The green bin doesn’t just take away all your weeds and excess growth and help you avoid the need to sit in a mile-long queue to the Recycling Centre on a Saturday morning. It’s far more than that
Apart from anything else it provides us with a rare opportunity for interpretive dance in the garden. Because when the green bin is full, it never really is properly full. It just needs a bit of stomping. My wife is the Bolshoi ballerina of green bin stomping - she can squash a load of unwanted hypericum with poise and grace and a certain artistry. In a complete contrast to this I am the ‘Stomp’ or the ‘Shrek’ of green bin stomping. I just give it the kilograms. Whereas she never looks out of control when leaping on top of brambles with her spotty wellies, my brutal wobbly attempts always look like they’re going to add to RoSPA statistics any second.
Compressing the green bin is always satisfying because you think you’ve filled it to capacity, but (unlike Mr.Creosote) you can always manage that one little bit more. It is surprising how much you can get in, plus it’s surprising what you can get away with sticking in. The guidelines try and inhibit you by stating branches up to a certain diameter, but we’ve lumped in rotting logs, old tree stumps, the odd glove and a dead badger and there never seems to be any comeback.
As noted in one of the blogs from last year, the green bin is also the instrument of banishment for slugs and snails in the garden. There’s no need to get squeamish or squash-ish with the little darlings. Should you kill them, chuck them over the fence or rehabilitate them? No. Stick them in the green bin and let fate handle it for you.
Yes, we can’t do without our green bin in the garden. And watching my wife tackle it is always a joy. Strictly Come Bin Stomping? I’d certainly give her more than seven.
