Even my tiny square has a compost heap, which has remained resolutely rock-hard with ice for months, and which has finally started to thaw (and smell).
It has resembled a Bird's Eye Frozen Vegetable Medley for 50, looking quite appetising until I put the dead flowers on it; even then, the onion slices twinkled pinkly from underneath their stalks in a coy suggestion of Mediterranean Salad, if only I would rescue them and arrange them on a plate for consumption.
Rot away, me hearties! The 'heap' is actually in a rather useful big plant pot which I want for the tomatoes this year. I might even plant the seeds in time for them to ripen this time around.
I have been here for over a year now; still, a big pile of stuff is in storage and costing a fortune monthly.
I have to bite the bullet and either get rid of it all or find somewhere to stash it here. There is room in the loft, but the access aperture is too small to get some of the things up there.
I kind of wish it would all rot away to something useful, like the compost heap does.