Giant worm gets remote control!
This old lavender twin flat sheet was sacrificed to the cause of worm education. Great fun to be dyeing fabric again, inhaling the hot, stinky smell of RIT and vinegar on the stove, wondering how many weeks my hands will be red, ruining another plastic colander, and bleaching my sink. Joy in the moment!
Maybe the giant worms will pop out of a Rubbermaid tub at the We Did Worms event, instead of a can. I priced giant can options at Target this morning while my walking buddy spent her gift card. We were cooling down after one of our intense strolls around the neighborhood.
I have not yet dragged the bags of play sand, pea gravel, and $1.00 topsoil out of the Buick's trunk. These are ingredients for worm parfaits. I'll deal with those tomorrow at terra. There's only so much I can do while remembering when Gary Hardin put the worm gizzard from the dissection tray down the throat of Resusci Annie in Mrs. Wittemore's seventh grade Life Science class.
And was Mrs. Wittemore's hairstyle what is called "marceled"? How old was Mrs. Wittemore in 1967? We thought she was at least a thousand with her weird hair, sensible shoes, and frumpy green dress. She was probably much younger than I am now in my sensible shoes, fat lady capri pants, and chrome hair.
© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder