About a month ago, I started composting. Because California. I apparently, suddenly, got all environmentally conscious or something. I really don't have a good explanation for this as I have been a consumerist asshole who glorified my part in filling the landfills for the past thirty-mumble-something years like there was an award to be won. But it struck me that with the amount of cooking I do, the amount of time I spend on my garden, and the ... detritus it all creates, why not recycle that shit? Literally?
So to back up, the previous tenants had left behind a Worm Factory which is a fancy, kind of expensive, compost bin. When I first saw it a year ago, I screamed. I somehow, despite my farm girl background and seven years of higher education, assumed it grew worms. Hello? Science? A series of plastic tubs that grows worms? That should be impossible.
Well guess what...
SCIENCE IS SOME BULLSHIT.
Or wormshit. To be precise.
I took the top level off (where you put the glorified garbage) to look at the second level. It is FULL of worms. The Worm Factory, in fact, grew worms. Anyway, I just scooped out five shovels full of well, worm shit, which has a more elegant name that I refuse to use, to fertilize my garden. After a month. I repeat: This is some fucking magic. This makes me think there is a God and he apparently loves worms. How potato peels, coffee filters, and the tops of carrots (not to be confused with the comedian formerly known as Carrot Top) turns into fertilizer is beyond me. Because I refuse to google it. Google probably knows.
But that might denigrate my newfound faith. And we wouldn't want that to happen.
*****
I know I haven't posted in 18 months and I come out with a post full of the terms "worm shit" and "fucking magic." That's kind of how I roll. Spell check tells me "worm shit" is one word, but I don't have that kind of faith. I'll have to ask to the worms for divine guidance.
By means of an update... Yes, I am here in San Diego. Betsy Ross is still my bestest friend and fiercest advocate. I'm practicing immigration law and have just partnered with an attorney in Phoenix to assist with complex criminal and appellate cases. I've had my work published by Jennifer Pastiloff. Things are good. Very good.
If I have another worm-based religious experience, I might be back.
So to back up, the previous tenants had left behind a Worm Factory which is a fancy, kind of expensive, compost bin. When I first saw it a year ago, I screamed. I somehow, despite my farm girl background and seven years of higher education, assumed it grew worms. Hello? Science? A series of plastic tubs that grows worms? That should be impossible.
Well guess what...
SCIENCE IS SOME BULLSHIT.
Or wormshit. To be precise.
I took the top level off (where you put the glorified garbage) to look at the second level. It is FULL of worms. The Worm Factory, in fact, grew worms. Anyway, I just scooped out five shovels full of well, worm shit, which has a more elegant name that I refuse to use, to fertilize my garden. After a month. I repeat: This is some fucking magic. This makes me think there is a God and he apparently loves worms. How potato peels, coffee filters, and the tops of carrots (not to be confused with the comedian formerly known as Carrot Top) turns into fertilizer is beyond me. Because I refuse to google it. Google probably knows.
But that might denigrate my newfound faith. And we wouldn't want that to happen.
*****
I know I haven't posted in 18 months and I come out with a post full of the terms "worm shit" and "fucking magic." That's kind of how I roll. Spell check tells me "worm shit" is one word, but I don't have that kind of faith. I'll have to ask to the worms for divine guidance.
By means of an update... Yes, I am here in San Diego. Betsy Ross is still my bestest friend and fiercest advocate. I'm practicing immigration law and have just partnered with an attorney in Phoenix to assist with complex criminal and appellate cases. I've had my work published by Jennifer Pastiloff. Things are good. Very good.
If I have another worm-based religious experience, I might be back.
