The
other week I dreamt that I was in this dank concrete basement of my hometown
library doing some volunteering, and there were folding tables full of troughs
of rotting food that had been left there and meant for a compost heap but had never been taken out.
I was in
despair, since I didn’t know if moldy food was still compostable and if the
mold would poison any soil that came from it, and I wondered what the people
who left the troughs out were thinking.
(I wonder if this links to my recent volunteering, where I set up tables for lunch and then helped the caterers take metal trays of Italian food in.)
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