The Great Worm Caper

As some of you know, I'm into the vermiculture movement. I have my green plastic bin in the basement where red wigglers eat my kitchen scraps and newspaper. The microbial processes involved fascinate me, and worms are cute. I don't care how grossed out other people get by annelids; I love them.

However, I am still learning. I am guilty of overfeeding them pulpy, veggie leftovers that alter the pH of the bin and encourage mite colonies to bloom. The mites don't hurt the worms, but they do indicate that the environment is in need of some tweaking. As a result, my worm colony deflated. I was sad and admonished myself for being a terrible vermi-parent. I will not succumb to failure however, and will no longer add too much food to the bin. I also ordered another package of worms. They came from California. :)

I know, I know. I strive to buy local when I do make purchases in order to decrease my ecological footprint, but the worm place I ordered from the first time around is no longer in business. I searched about online, but all the worm farms were far off. So, I checked reviews and prices, and went with Rainbowworms.com. I like rainbows, and I like worms. It works for me.

Why don't I just go outside and pick "wild" earthworms? Glad you asked! Earthworms from your yard or garden are not Eisenia fetida. They are often Lumbricus terrestris, though there are many types of worms. Eisenia fetida,  or the red wiggler, is the worm most commonly used in composting. In the wild, they live in transitional spaces like leaf litter and debris, rather than in the ground. Lumbricus terrestris would soon die out in the compost bin, as they will not survive the enclosed space filled with your garbage. So, while I am grabbing common earthworms from here and there to toss into my raised garden bed, I am ordering my composting worms from online. They arrive two days from shipping, and then get moved to the compost bin.

In this particular case, the pound of  worms (roughly 1,000 little guys) arrived Wednesday. I opened the box, untied their bag, and peeked in to see a mass of tiny, wriggling, vermicular bodies. I tied the bag shut, and went to get ready for a dinner with Soroptimist. My plan was to move the worms to the bin that evening when I came home.

After applying make-up and doing my hair, I happened to walk into the kitchen when I saw Malai and Quadrapus staring at the floor around the shoe mat. I peeked over their shoulders, and that's when I saw them. The worms were escaping! Tiny wormy bodies inched along the wooden floor like they were in some kind of race. (May have had something to do with the cat's black velvety nose right behind them...)

I giggled as I snatched up the twenty or so bodies on the floor and placed them in the bag. I scooted a few of them off the counter back into their box, and overturned all the shoes to make sure I had rescued them all. (It is certain death for a worm lost in the kitchen. Worms need moisture to breathe through their skin, and we don't have puddles or anything wet lying around.)

I took the box downstairs and decided to just dump them into the bin since apparently they were eager to get going somewhere. My bin can stack up to five levels of prime vermi-real estate, and I put these guys on the second level to start their work. I left the basement light on to discourage runaways (they hate light), and went back upstairs to finish primping for dinner.

Dinner, btw, was held by an international non-profit organization known as Soroptimist (meaning "best for women"). The Bridgeport chapter was celebrating their year of fundraising success and awarding women in the community who are making a difference in their lives. My boss is a member of the organization, and invited me to attend.

When I returned, Lover was home and just making himself some pizza. I noticed that the basement light was off. I flipped it on and quickly ran downstairs in my six-inch heels. I rounded the corner to the bin, and sure enough... I began shrieking as I saw at least 500 worms making a break for it.

Here's the thing. Worms that have recently traveled are very edgy and restless once they've reached the destination. It takes a few days to get them settled into one place. General suggestions are to leave the lights on because this will deter them from leaving, and to also put a layer of dry newspaper on the top of the bin because they'll want to dig deeper where it's moist.

No light, and no dry layer, and it's a sudden free-for-all.

I spent the next half-hour picking worms off the floor and from around and underneath boxes, boots, canvases, tools, and towels from the laundry. Still dressed to the nines. After laughing, Lover went back upstairs and ate his pizza. He's not a worm guy, and won't touch them.

This morning I found five worms outside the bin. Three had dried up. Two were saved.

At least I know these guys are healthy.