For four years I hauled vegetable peels to the alley and then bought fertilizer in a sack. A fifteen-year-old asked me why. Here is what changed.
I kept kitchen scraps in a plastic ice cream pail for two years and pretended it was fine. Then my granddaughter counted the bags in my trash. Here is what a full gardening season with a countertop compost bin actually looked like.
One has been on my counter for more than a year. The other I used for a week at my daughter's house. Here is where each one actually earns its place.
I have killed a plant or two every summer for five years. What finally changed my garden was not a fertilizer or a gadget. It was a bucket beside the sink.
For four years I hauled vegetable peels to the alley and then bought fertilizer in a sack. A fifteen-year-old asked me why. Here is what changed.
Clay soil, three raised beds, and a countertop bin that turned a daily nuisance into next spring's tomato bed. The steps, in the order I wish someone had told me.
A year on the kitchen counter with the Epica 1.3 gallon bin, including the fruit flies, the filter I ruined, and the one thing I would tell anyone before they buy.
One drawer, one season, four silicone bags, and a fifteen year old who counted every zip-top bag in the house. Here is what held up and what did not.
One season, one kitchen drawer, forty-one zipper bags counted by a fifteen-year-old. Here is the row by row verdict on reusable silicone versus the disposable kind, including the jobs the disposable bag still wins.
My granddaughter counted the zip-top bags in my kitchen drawer. Forty-one. Here are the ten things that convinced me the silicone ones were worth the switch.
My granddaughter counted forty-one zip-top bags in my kitchen drawer. I bought four silicone ones to quiet her down, then had to admit she was right.
A retired librarian's honest account of swapping zip-top bags for reusable silicone, including the two weeks she nearly gave up on them.
Nora counted the zip-top bags in my drawer and made a face. Here is what a year with four Stasher bags actually taught me, including the parts I would not have paid for if I had known.
One year, three raised beds, and a granddaughter who counts the plastic bags. What held up, what did not, and who should bother.
A season of zucchini, one warm loaf of bread, and an honest look at which jobs each one actually does well.
A retired librarian in Loveland, Colorado on what a year of waxed cotton sheets actually replaced, and the two things she would do differently.
A retired librarian on the half loaf of zucchini bread, the plastic wrap habit she gave up, and the three wraps that stayed in her drawer.
Ten years of plastic wrap, undone by one hot August and a fifteen-year-old with opinions. Here is the routine that finally worked on tomatoes and herbs.
A retired librarian in Loveland bought a three-pack last summer to deal with too much zucchini. Here is the part the package does not explain.
Nine months of towels, sheets, garden rags, and one muddy baseball uniform. What six wool balls actually changed, what they did not, and the two things that still bother me.
I used wool dryer balls for a year in my Loveland laundry room. Here is where they beat dryer sheets, and where the old box still wins.
I kept a box of dryer sheets on top of my machine for years. Then my granddaughter counted how many I was throwing away, and I bought a six-pack of wool balls to get her off my back. Here is what changed, and the two places they still fall short.
Last fall I put an empty dryer sheet box back on the shelf and came home with something else. Nine months later, here is how that worked out.
A retired librarian's plain-spoken routine for getting dryer sheets out of the laundry room, from counting what you actually throw away to loading the drum so the balls can do their job.
A retired librarian in Loveland, Colorado, gives wool dryer balls a fair trial and reports the static, the lint, and the loads that changed her mind.
Eight cloths, one sticky note from a fifteen-year-old, and most of a year of counters, spills, clay pots and hail-shredded beans.
One winter of cloths against a lifetime of rolls, from a kitchen in Loveland, Colorado.
I did not set out to quit paper towels. My granddaughter counted nine rolls in my cupboard last winter, and the cloths I bought to end the argument never left.
A retired librarian in Loveland, Colorado, tries eight reusable cloths for seven weeks and reports what held up, what did not, and what she still keeps in the pantry.
Five steps, one stubborn habit, and the one job I still keep a roll for.
Nine months, eight cloths, and one granddaughter who counts paper towels. Here is the version of this review I would have wanted before I bought them.
I kept kitchen scraps in a plastic ice cream pail for two years and pretended it was fine. Then my granddaughter counted the bags in my trash. Here is what a full gardening season with a countertop compost bin actually looked like.
A year on the kitchen counter with the Epica 1.3 gallon bin, including the fruit flies, the filter I ruined, and the one thing I would tell anyone before they buy.
One drawer, one season, four silicone bags, and a fifteen year old who counted every zip-top bag in the house. Here is what held up and what did not.
Nora counted the zip-top bags in my drawer and made a face. Here is what a year with four Stasher bags actually taught me, including the parts I would not have paid for if I had known.
One year, three raised beds, and a granddaughter who counts the plastic bags. What held up, what did not, and who should bother.
A retired librarian in Loveland bought a three-pack last summer to deal with too much zucchini. Here is the part the package does not explain.
Nine months of towels, sheets, garden rags, and one muddy baseball uniform. What six wool balls actually changed, what they did not, and the two things that still bother me.
A retired librarian in Loveland, Colorado, gives wool dryer balls a fair trial and reports the static, the lint, and the loads that changed her mind.
Eight cloths, one sticky note from a fifteen-year-old, and most of a year of counters, spills, clay pots and hail-shredded beans.
Nine months, eight cloths, and one granddaughter who counts paper towels. Here is the version of this review I would have wanted before I bought them.
