Sweater Compost

   

        

     While putting away the Easter decorations, I discovered that two of my oldest sweaters had been destroyed by moths. They had eaten their way through the middle of one sweater completely and were on their way through the second. To be fair—these sweaters were on their way out; I had been patching and repairing them for several years. But, it was still a shock. I quickly cleared out the entire closet, flinging the contents all over the living room. No more sweaters were damaged! My great-grandmother’s shawl was fine. I moved onto the chest of drawers that holds our hats and scarves. Two of Mark’s ancient wool hats were munched. I dug through the yarn stash (probably the source of the moth problem) and cleared out a ball and a half of yarn. Then I checked the bedroom—there was sweater dust, but the sweaters were fine. I washed down the closet and the chest, then carried the remaining sweaters out to the greenhouse, where they are airing in the sun.

                This morning, Mark was in charge of disposal. My plan was to lay them in the bottom of the compost, but he was worried that they would not break down quickly enough. They are both all wool and rather sheepy, but thick. One was natural, untreated wool, still a little oily after twenty five years. Because he was reluctant to compost them in the hoops, he dug down into one of the garden beds until he hit the base layer of clay. As he dug, he considered the power of double dug bio-char to deepen the soil, but was just a theoretical consideration. When he was down to clay, we spread the sweaters out and buried them. They were good sweaters—the black one I knit my last winter in New England, while in graduate school. The brown one was my first Portland sweater, a lovely rug on a damp and rainy day, which I wore canvassing for OSPIRG in the early spring. They had served me well—and now, they will take care of us one more time, as compost.