I tend to eat low on the food chain, but when I do eat meat I try very hard not to waste. Thus, the Thanksgiving turkey carcass (which will ultimately be composted) is boiling away on my stove as I write. The resulting stock will be combined with butternut squash or potatoes for future nourishment in the form of soup.

Glass jars of stock cooling in November air.

I cook a lot of soup in the wintertime because it is simple to make out of vegetables I grew. I have to admit, though, that the stock is often store bought. Although I love the idea of making my own stock, it requires one to be home and awake for at least four hours with enough energy to pay attention to a stove.

When the Thanksgiving turkey stock is all used up, I typically head to the grocery store. Once upon a time, I bought stock in a box (think very large juice box) but then abandoned those because of their inability to be composted or recycled. I switched to stock in cans since they can be recycled, eliminating the landfill-bound soup-associated waste.

I was happy with this until I learned that the lining of cans tested by Consumer Reports Health  contain Bisphenol A (BPA) , an estrogen-mimicking chemical with suspected ill health effects, most notably in children. Canned organic products are no better off in this regard than their conventional counterparts either.

So now I’m wondering what to do with all of those cans of soup, fruits, and vegetables in my pantry. If I throw them out my husband will likely starve when I am away. If I use them I’ll wonder just how much BPA my 4-year olds are getting with each bite.

In light of my packaging woes, I think I’ll invest in some more glass canning jars and carve out a few more four-hour blocks of time. The resulting stock is a healthy investment.

This time of year leads me to consider everything that I am thankful for: my friends and family (human and animal members), living in Vermont, food on my table, shelter over my head – the typical stuff. This year, when we take turns at the table sharing what we are thankful for, I’m going to throw out a new one – llama manure.

Please, keep reading. Llama manure has some mighty fine attributes. First and foremost it is a great ingredient to have on hand when building a compost pile or for jumpstarting an existing bin, providing both nitrogen and microbes.  If you have hungry plants that can’t wait for the compost to finish up, llama manure can be used directly on plants without burning them.

That’s not all. Llama manure doesn’t harbor a lot of weed seeds. It doesn’t even really stink (too bad). I’ve had friends take it home in a Prius, which should say something about scent. The firm oval pellets are easy to shovel and spread. Best of all, llamas are quite tidy about their elimination habits by choosing one or two spots in the field where they all make their deposits, which we call the communal poop pile. This is most convenient for the gardener and composter.

So, there it is, I’m debating whether or not to mention this at the dinner table where we usually give thanks. I know it isn’t considered polite to talk about excrement while (or just before) eating. My four-year olds get in trouble for this all the time, so they will likely welcome the conversation. As far as the adults at the table, they have all already had these details inflicted upon them in other settings.

Still, this just seems to be the right time and place to bring it up. I really am thankful for it and couldn’t imagine gardening without it. The vegetables on the table are evidence of its value. Admittedly, I’m a little worried that my four-year olds will giggle about it throughout the entire Thanksgiving meal. Perhaps I’ll wait until dessert.

In recognition of America Recycles Day (November 15), I toured our local Materials Recovery Facility (recycling center). I came away with much deeper understanding of why reduce and reuse come before recycle. Although tons of materials are recovered each day, recycling is not perfect. I now have an even greater appreciation for composting (if that is possible). Here’s how I see it:

• Compared with recycling, composting does not require the same energy inputs. Sure, both composting and recycling facilities use large machinery, but unlike recovered recyclable materials compost doesn’t need to be baled, melted down or de-inked. In many settings, one can just throw a bunch of organics in a pile and over time (faster or slower depending on conditions) nature does all the work.

• There is no sorting required. Compostables can all go in the same big pile. As a consequence, contamination is less of an issue, assuming you are careful about what you put in.

• Compost doesn’t need to travel to China to be useful again, as is the case for number 3 – 7 plastics. Compost is useful anywhere.

• The value of the finished product isn’t at the mercy of the economy like recovered recycled materials. Compost is always valuable and arguably more valuable during recessions and depressions since more people tend vegetable gardens during hard economic times.

• You can compost almost anywhere. Even city dwellers can compost using an electric composter or vermicomposting (composting with worms). By contrast, one’s recycling options are dependent upon the recycling infrastructure in their city or county, with existing drastic geographical differences.

• There is no limit to the number of times biologics can be recycled (composted).

Composting is nature’s perfect recycling system. Don’t get me wrong, I’m an avid recycler and I complete the loop by purchasing products made with recycled materials. I extend sincere gratitude to the people who make it happen. Without them, we’d have many more holes in the ground filled with you-know-what.

We need both composters and recyclers. But we, as a society, can do better, from designing better (truly recyclable) products and packaging to expanding recycling infrastructure to creating local markets for recycled materials. It would make their job a whole lot easier and our planet a whole lot cleaner.