Friday, April 27, 2012


I have a wormfarm.
I love my wormfarm.

Don't really love my worms.
You'd think they are slippery little suckers
but they aren't.
I swear one bit me.
I had to stick my hand in the worm poo to uncover these babies.
They like hiding in the eggshells.
To be fair, and you know I am,
I was pulling the wormies out of the muck so I could plant roses
 in the rich, gooey worm poo.
Yes with my bare hands.

Wormfarms have layers like this.
In my case there are three.
You put your kitchen waste in one layer at a time.
By kitchen wasteI mean vege scraps,
tea bags, peelings - except potatoes cause they just grow.

I always add some bokashi mix to help the veges scraps
 breakdown faster,
I'm impatient like that.
The worms eat all the veges
and poo it out and it becomes juicy, mucky, rich soil.
Do you know in my town the nightsoil collections ran up until 1975?
My town did not have a sewerage system until 1975!

Cause I just cleaned out the bottom layer
and mixed in the second layer together with the third layer
my wormfarm paddock is just the one very full layer
full of tiger worms.
Which by the way, if you get paranoid like I do
and think that your worm livestock will not have survived
because you forget to keep the scraps moist
or cause it freezes and snows
don't worry.
Two things, one; these babies are tough and
pretty much survive anything
(unlike other livestock type pets eg lambs who got very stressed
over large earthquakes and died)
two; you can buy more. 
There are people who kind of have tiger worm breeding programmes
and sell you a ice cream container full for ten bucks.
End result: priceless.
One of my perfect iceberg roses,
always fragrant and pleasing.

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