No, the title does not refer to Steve. He's doing well, although his leg is still a bit sore. He's walking well, all the way to the kitchen for his soft drinks, sweetened juice cocktails, and other goodies. It appears that he will survive his favorite foods for a while longer.

What the title refers to is my ComposTumbler. I never realized how much water the composting process generates since I've had bin composters which drained into the ground beneath the pile. I put a plastic ice cream tub under the drain to catch most of the drips from there, but it also drips water along the front edge of the door and some along the side edges of the drum. It is sitting there gently steaming a bit with the material in the drum approaching the color and consistence of poop. That's right, that's what it looks like and somewhat smells like. I can tell that my toy is not going to move into the den to compost stuff in the winter.

I tried tumbling in some more newspaper to help sop up the water and it is helping some, but then the water gets released again when the newspaper breaks down. I'm going to resist the urge to moisten the mixture so much the next time and see if juicy weeds will supply enough water to accomplish the task.

The compost mix definitely is not supposed to be dripping wet, but I had it nicely damp to encourage it to break down properly. Now it is shrinking down rapidly but getting wetter as it does. The more newspaper I put in to sop it up, the heavier the load got. It is pretty full, too, and I have to leave head space to allow the load to mix as the barrel spins. I also added moist kitchen trimmings and juicy weeds as I had them to go in. I think that water is produced with carbon dioxide when carbohydrates break down, if I recall my chemistry correctly.

Altogether, my compost is composting but it is dripping quite a bit as it does so. I do succumb to admiring its progress fairly often, so it is getting some airing out. I would never have suspected that watching compost rot could be so fascinating. I must be getting very easy to amuse in my old age.

I've also decided that this little composter is going to be just about as big as I'm going to be able to spin. The load is surprisingly heavy when it has gotten to the point where it is time to stop filling the drum and let it finish what it has. Both Mom and Steve are keeping their distance and letting me tend to the tumbler. Weeding to get green material always keeps non-gardeners away, and this little weed eating toy amplifies the effect. The cats are my occasional companions while I pull weeds and prune a few overgrown branches, but even they have tired of my devotion to the green box that has joined the gray box (our computer) as a rival for my attention.

So far my strength is matching the tumbler, but then what do I do when it is time to use the compost? I've got to mix it into heavy clay soil or else get a lot of pots and plant things in them to justify the composter. I'm already getting a taste of that much work from weeding to fill the tumbler. Mom and Grandmother planted this yard so densely that I'm down on my hands and knees a lot of the time grabbing weeds from around shrubs with thorny roses, holly, and brambles fighting back.

I had visions of making some compost to lighten my soil in the vegetable patch, and Mom is having visions of having her whole yard weeded and pruned. Mother Nature has added a lot of wild tree and shrub seedlings as well. There are many things out there that aren't supposed to be there, and what is supposed to be there has multiplied greatly and spread wildly.

I've started a compost pile in the yard to hold the weeds and leaves I've been collecting while waiting for this load to finish. I'm going to try letting them wilt outdoors a bit and then put part wilted stuff and part fresh weeds in the composter with the newspapers to see if it will speed up the process. The yard is so overgrown that it desperately needs tending, and Mom has gotten to the point that she can't do it very much anymore. The fresh juice from our new juicer is perking me up somewhat, so I've been putting in some time working on collecting material for the composter. If I spread the work out enough, maybe I'll survive long enough to see a load of actual compost from the tumbler.

My brother is thrilled at its hearty appetite since he just loves to see me put to work after spending money. He was laughing about it and told me to go cut some more shrubs even after I fixed his supper. He may be the old goat going out to gnaw on a shrub for his supper yet.