Worm Poop
Never in a million years would I have predicted that I would be getting up at the crack of dawn to go worm shopping. Yes, worm shopping, and no I don’t fish.
As a truly domesticated bear, I have become the housekeeper, the cook, and now the gardener. Of all my wifely duties, I actually like the garden. It doesn’t hurt that in San Francisco everything grows regardless of my lack of a green thumb.
Being a Type-A Bear, I never do anything half assed. My gardening is no exception. Not content to simply plant a few geraniums, I am now trying to produce my own compost. It is N. California after all, and all my lesbian friends produce their own compost in between breast feeding and golf. So in my organically inclined universe, I am now off buying worms.
Please don’t tell my NY friends, who remember me as the bar owner who rarely made it home before 8am. I have retired the late nights and such goings on for a huzbear, two dogs, a cat and an organically challenged garden. OK, so like when I see a scary bug, I still reach for every chemical I can find to send it onto the next life. If there is karma, I am sure I will be a bug in the next life being chased by a crazed, dust buster wielding maniac. But, I digress.
Back to the worms. I have decided my compost is not composting fast enough. How do I know this? I have no idea, but I do. So my new friends (the worms, not the lesbians) have been called to duty. Apparently, they will cut my composting time in half, as they munch their way through last week’s lawn clippings. Then – why do I read the Internet – they will poop fertilizing nectar of the gods. For those of us garden types – worm poop is called “castings” and are high in Nitrogen. Apparently, this is a good thing.
So, I have launched 400 or so of my new friends off to work.
Are you done, yet?