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Cesilko Living Soil A Simple Guide for Beginners Chapter I: A List of Things You Can't Live Without Before you create the world, you need to shop. God had seven days and emptiness. You have a grow shop, Hornbach, and 70 liters of space. For the soil body: 25 liters of Biobizz All-Mix. It's black, heavy, and already has food for the first three weeks. It's the meat. 15 liters of Biobizz Light-Mix. It's light and airy. It's the lungs. 20 liters of buffered coconut. Beware. Not Biobizz Coco. Like me. That's a traitor. It steals calcium and then laughs at you with purple stems. Buy Canna Coco Pro+, Plagron Cocos Premium, or UGro. Those are coconuts that have gone through a calcium and magnesium bath and are rich. They don't eat. 15 liters of worm humus. Worm-Humus. It's not soil. It's worm poop that has passed through their bodies five times. It's black gold. It contains enzymes, bacteria, humic acids. It's the soul. 5 liters of perlite. Or better: pumice 6-8 mm. Perlite crumbles to dust in a year. Pumice lasts forever. They are the bones. They hold the structure so the soil doesn't suffocate. For food and magic: 500 ml of Biobizz Pre-Mix. This is a mix of meals. From horns, blood, fish, algae. It stinks. And it works. This is the food that the soil will digest for two months. 5 kilos of dolomitic lime. From Hornbach, brand AGRO. It costs 80 crowns. It will save your harvest. It's anthracite for the soil. It maintains pH, provides calcium and magnesium. With coconut, it's as essential as brakes in a car. 150 grams of Symbivita. These are spores of mycorrhizal fungi. You can't see them. But they will see the roots of your seedlings and fall in love. They will attach to them and increase their surface area a hundredfold. 500 grams of INPORO Trichoderma. This is a predatory fungus. A cop. It runs around the pot and eats molds that want to eat your roots. Fusarium, Pythium, Botrytis. They are a snack for it. 1 kilo of Guanokalong powder. NPK 1-10-1. This is dried bat poop from caves. It sounds disgusting. But plants love it like a fancy meal. It's fuel for flowers. 100 pieces of California worms. You can buy them at fishing supply stores or online. They are workers. They eat mulch, poop humus, and spread fungal spores throughout the pot. They are the postmen of living soil. Half a liter of unsulfured molasses. From a health food store. It's sugar for bacteria. When you brew tea, it's their Red Bull. An aquarium air pump with a stone. For three hundred crowns. Without it, you won't make tea. Tools: A 90-liter construction tub. An old tarp. A watering can. A sprayer. A thermometer. A tablespoon. Hands. And time. Do you have it? Good. We can start creating. Chapter II: Brewing – 21 Days When Nothing Happens and Yet Everything Happens Day Zero. You lay the tarp on the ground. It's your operating table. You pour All-Mix, Light-Mix, coconut, Worm-Humus, and perlite onto it. It looks like a pile of junk. But it’s not. You take the Pre-Mix. 250 milliliters. Sprinkle it over the pile. Add 100 grams of dolomite. The white powder glistens in the black soil. And now your hands. You stick them in. Mix. Five minutes, ten minutes. Until every part of the pile is the same. Until the Pre-Mix is everywhere. There are no light and dark spots. There is only one color. The color of future soil. You’ll get dirty up to your elbows. That’s a good sign. You take 7-12 liters of standing water. Sprinkle and mix. Again. And again. How do you know you have enough? You take a handful. Squeeze it. One, maybe two drops drip between your fingers. When you let go of the clump, it falls apart into a few pieces. If it runs, you added too much. If it holds like playdough, that's also wrong. It should be like a wrung-out sponge you find in the forest after rain. You toss it into the construction tub. You previously drilled eight holes in the bottom with an eight-millimeter drill. The soil must not drown. Cover it with the tarp. And take a knife. Poke the tarp. Ten times, twenty times. You allow the soil to breathe. You put it in a corner where it’s 20 to 25 degrees. In the garage, in the basement, in the grow room. Just not in direct sunlight. And now you wait. Day One to Twenty-One: Watching the Fire. Inside the tub, a fire ignites. Not the kind you see. Microbial. The bacteria woke up, sensed the Pre-Mix, and started feasting. While eating, they heat up. You stick a meat thermometer into the center of the pile. It shows 28 degrees. Good. Does it show 36? Bad. You uncover the tarp, take a pitchfork, and turn the whole tub over. You air it out. You’re saving life from being cooked. Above 35 degrees, the best fungi die. Every two to three days, you lift the tarp. For half an hour. You let the soil breathe. And you sniff. That’s the most important test. Does it smell like a forest? Like mushrooms after rain? Like soil in the woods? Excellent. Cover it back up and walk away. Does it smell like ammonia? Like rotten eggs? Like a cesspool? That’s a scream. The soil screams that it’s suffocating. That there’s too much water and not enough air. Dig your hands in and turn it all over. Let it breathe, even for an hour or two. The top must not dry out to dust. If it does, take the sprayer and give it two or three sprays. Just make sure there’s no desert on the surface. Let it grow, and see you in a week.