Well, here's the package that came in the post:
These guygirls are brilliant. I love them. We built them a wormery out of two rubbermaid bins and, at first, there was drama, there was initial shock and an obstinate refusal to accept said bins as "home," resulting in dried out streches of dead worm discovered across the kitchen floor each morning, as the deluded things tried to escape...perhaps trying to get to the window or maybe out the front door, down the three flights of stairs and out into the lush worm-paradise of Bennett Street.
But they didn't make it. They never did. They just stretched and stretched across the dry floor for a meter or so and then died.
Then they quit trying, which was best for everyone, really. Because much as I love cereal, scooping up dead worm corpses isn't so good for the breakfast appetite.
And now they're resigned to their fate, and, I'm assuming, very, very happy. They squirm, they eat our banana peels and tea bags, they squirm, the excrete miracle fertilizer, they eat our leek ends, they squirm. And everyone is happy.
I like to open up the bin and just look at them. It's bonding.
6 comments:
So, you're farmers now. When's harvest?
man. do you think that greggs is in one of those bins in toad-heaven? cause. he would have a hay day! he'd eat so many of them wigglers, he wouldn't be able to move!
i mean. ummm... my dead pet wouldn't eat your pets.
nothing!
Do they have names yet?
Harvest...good question. The plants sure do LOVE the worm liquid though, whoa. Brought a pretty-much-dead strawberry back to thriving life and made some peas that weren't even PLANTED start growing! Magic.
The worms are mostly called Mo'Nique. Because they're such bad actors.
you are aware that monique just won a best supporting oscar, right? maybe you should re-think that one...
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