Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Taking the Good with the Bad
A big tragedy occurred this weekend, readers. My composting worms died. All of them. It was mass wormicide.
I think I had gotten too cocky. The weekend before, I went to a composting class with a friend and bragged to her about how easy it was to set up a worm farm. I went home after the class, and proudly fed my wrigglers, noticing new babies and some pregnant ladies in the mix. I was so proud of my little community. And I was excited to give them the tomatoes I just learned they could eat.
Sadly, I think it was the tomatoes that killed them. There was so much liquid in the container last weekend, that most of the little worms drown. Even the ones in the actual compost were suffocated, I think. Despite my massive search and rescue effort, I could not find a single one alive. And yes, I cried. Cried over IM to Mr. Wonderful—who sweetly told me it wasn’t my fault…sort of like when I ran over that pigeon.
As heartbreaking as it was to lose my farm, I did have some high points Saturday and Sunday. Like when Mr. W sent me a link to the hotel he booked for us in Paris. Yes people, I not only get to get some much-needed action in the UK next week, I get to celebrate my 33rd birthday in Paris. Poor me.
It was also a joy (and relief) to book another trip to see Mr. W in May. We’re going to meet halfway in Tampa, to stay with his mom. I haven’t met her yet, which is a little weird considering that Mr. W and I may commit lascivious acts in her house when the lights go off (sorry, but 6 weeks is a LONG TIME!). But I’m optimistic she and I will get along. Especially when I kiss her feet and thank her for raising such a thoughtful, sensitive, intelligent stallion…I mean, son.
So I guess the weekend was all about balance. I’m just sorry so many lives were lost in the process. Maybe I can light a candle for my wrigglers when I visit the Sacré-Cœur Basilica in France.
[By the way, that picture up top is the view across the river from Mr. W’s penthouse. Not bad, right…?]