My worms are making lovely compost in the kitchen bin, and I want them to have a goal in mind. People are asking why I started the worm bin. They aren't sure if I'm quite sane when I answer that I just thought it would be an interesting project.
[Worms are difficult to photograph, but you never have to worry about flash "red eye".]
So now I will be saying that the vermicompost will go into my container garden. I stopped at Home Depot for two cherry tomato plants, two pepper plants, one dill, and one bag-o-dirt. My shed had a big stack of flower pots, and I put the new plants in the largest ones. They don't quite feng and shi with Sammy Kaye, but they will do. Divided a couple mums, whether or not it is the right season.
Enjoyed the blooms on my "miniature" rose bushes. One has pink roses, and the other has orange petals with magenta edges. I got them at the grocery store a few years back for a couple bucks each, when they were in four-inch pots, and four inches tall. The flowers are still "miniature," but the two foot tall rose bushes are ridiculously hardy and thrive on neglect.
But what about Q School and worm motivational goals? My worms have been eating my fruit and vegetable scraps for over two months now. It's time for me to stop adding food to the bin and let them finish turning what's there into compost for my container garden and house plants. It's time for these worms to go pro, bring home the trophies and the Green Jacket.
I don't want to go back to tossing all my garbage in the dumpster. I drilled aeration holes in an old, unattractive Rubbermaid storage container I found in the shed. It will be the patio bin. It has bedding, a bit of soil, and the largest and least decomposed materials I found in the kitchen bin. I've added a small fraction of the worms from the kitchen bin to the patio bin.
Called Dad while I sat out on the patio enjoying the improved scene. Dad, the lifelong golfer, is now a Golf Channel viewer. The name Q School popped into my head for the patio bin, where the worms will have rather primitive conditions and have to carry their own golf bags. The kitchen bin must be The Tour, a comparative vermi Palm Springs where the worms are playing for big money.
It's been a lovely day, but the To Do list is still waiting.
© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder