Going To The Worms

In order to help me solidify my commitment to the environment and natural gardening, Opie just bought me a Worm Factory Composting Bin.


And, although I have a feeling that I’m a Kimbo-come-lately to the organic gardening party and most of you already know what a Worm Factory Composting Bin is, let me explain. It is a 1.5′ x 1.5′ x 3” sized plastic bin that you load with damp shredded newspaper, kitchen trash, starter compost and 1,000 red worms.

No, that’s not a typo, WE HAVE ONE THOUSAND RED WORMS living in our laundry room….and considering the incredibly speedy way they reproduce and the fact that our bin has 4 more stackable expandable levels, it’s entirely possible that we will have TWO THOUSAND RED WORMS by the end of next month.


It’s going to be epic!

What, you may be asking yourselves, does this have to do with my new love of the gardening? Compost, people, compost. And the environment….see, instead of throwing away our kitchen trash and our old newspapers, we feed it all to the worms. Over time, they munch it all down and leave behind this amazingly rich, fertile compost that you can throw directly on your garden.

Yes, for those of you who don’t remember basic high school biology and zoology, I’m talking about poop. Worm poop. I am sitting here, almost giddy with excitement over WORM POOP. I feel like I should be on that show “Strange Addictions” or “Intervention.”

My name is Kimberly and I love me some worm poop.

Though, to be technical, we worm farmers prefer to call it “worm castings.”

In any case, let me assure you that the worm farm has not completely eradicated my feelings about things that are slimy (like the slugs!)I may love me some worm poop and I may have come up with endearing nicknames like “wormies” and I may spend a disturbing amount of time speculating on worm copulation, but this doesn’t mean that I want to TOUCH the worms.

Because, you see, they’re WORMS.

So, whenever it is time to tend the worms, I arm myself with elbow-length gloves and a little plastic trowel that I can use to stir the worms about. And in the rare occasion that one of the worms escapes or accidentally falls out or whatever, I go shrieking upstairs and demand that Opie take immediate action.

Married life is a constant joy for HIM, I can assure you.

So, in summary, we’re all about doing our part to save the earth here in the wilds of Oklahoma, I’ve got my fingers crossed that worm poop = amazing vegetables, and I’d like to find something to write about that doesn’t include slime.


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