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The package arrived in a big white bucket with a bright blue lid taped tightly shut. At first glance, it’s a rather odd gift to receive for Christmas and, even after opening it, with its strong earthy aroma, you’re not entirely sure what you’re looking at. But I knew once I cracked the lid open. It was my wormery.
As a fervent gardener with a 2 x 6 foot balcony, I have to make-do with the narrow space available. In the summer, I keep plenty of potted veg, the entire area covered with plants both big and small with very minimal walking space. However, in the winter the space is bare and aside from a lavender plant, nothing grows and there are no more garden chores to be completed. Until now.
Under the kitchen sink are my 200 tiger worms who work tirelessly — I assume — to consume the decaying bits of food that B and I eat each day. Red pepper skins; espresso grounds; cracked egg shells and nubby ends of green bean stems. All of it is gathered in a large glass bowl that resides next to the sink as my composting space, before being given to the worms later in the week. When the time finally comes, I dig my nails into the soil to check on them. Unlike a normal pet, it’s much harder to tell if they’re doing okay. Taped to the fridge, among the polaroids and collection of travel magnets, are Good/Bad instructions on what to feed them. I check it constantly. “All 202 kids are good,” I text B when he’s gone to work, the remaining two are our elderly cats.
I’m more attached to my worms than I liked to admit. When I discovered green and blue tinged mold growing on some very blackened banana skins, I became concerned that I was, somehow, leading the worms to their death. Similar to googling your illness when you’re sick, Google informed me that I was either killing my worms or that this was all part of nature’s doing and that I shouldn’t be concerned. Either way, I had to drop a message to the maker’s of the wormery. They assured me, all was well.
The worms will remain under the sink throughout the winter. I check in on them weekly and in five months, just in time for summer, I can drain the liquid they have produced and, mixed with ten parts water, use it as fertiliser for my balcony garden. Apparently worm wee is potent with nutrients, considered in the gardening world as the rocket fuel of fertilisers. Until then, I’ll continue to fill the compost bin with discarded carrot peels, forgotten lettuce and more red pepper skin.
Thank you for transporting me to the space under your kitchen sink.
Awesome post, Natalie! I love worms, and am 'that person' who stops dead in front of other people when I'm out and about - even to the point of tripping them up - in order to pluck any valiant-yet-reckless earthworm out of harm's way on pavements or trails. 🪱