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…?]
15 comments:
Plus, how the heck would the little worms survive all your trips without you? See, there is a silver lining to everything. =)
You're killing me with all this European travel. Oh wait, my bad, it's the worms you're killing.
...and pigeons. Does PETA know about you?
Frankly I'm kinda happy I don't have to babysit those wormie nieces and nephews while you're gone...Has Mr. W checked to see if kids can visit the Penthouse? It's not like they're going to move into the Love Shack.
Maybe the worms died of envy that you get to spend your freaking birthday in PARIS!
Maybe it was some sort of worm cult, a mass suicide? You don't know what was going on in there when you weren't home.
Watch out for the worm revenge. I believe there is a movie called Killer Tomatoes Eat France. Just make sure you aren't there when it happens!
Nilsa - Sadly, the worms can usually survive for months on their own...unless their irresponsible owner kills them.
Dingo - I'm killing myself with the European travel! I keep thinking "whose life is this, anyway"? It's nutty...
Sister - Sorry, no kids means no kids. They know he's not living there with kids, so "visits" count. But you guys should just meet us in Ireland instead.
Hannah - They did look a little green... :P
Mandy - I searched for tiny Nikes and Kool-aid cups and found nothing. But I believe they may have been some sort of pact or spaceship involved in the situation.
Wow TWA - Great, now I'm probably going to get a worm in my salad. Or maybe in my escargot...
"Wormicide" hee hee
Paris for your birthday?! Woo hoo....sounds like a great time!
Sorry about the worms...but you'll forget all about them while in Paris drinking wine and eating croissants.
I do not believe the worms died of too much tomato liquid, I believe they died of extreme envy. Just as I'm about to.
Hmmmm... if it's all about balance, it might be dangerous to be around you, even on the internetz. I mean, if you obtain permanent happiness, the universe might just take me out to maintain it's balance! ;)
Nilsa definitely has a point. Silver lining totally! Also, that view is definitely gorgeous.
Pregnant worms means they were have wild wormy sex and being fed, so they had a good life. You're still a good worm-mama!
Beeyootiful view! I'm sorry to hear about the mass wormicide (but I must admit, kind of glad, because worms = grossness in my world). Is that horrible of me?
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