Worms

We have worms. And I have to say that they're not too bad. We have finally dispensed with our magical, mystical defies the laws of the universe compost bin. For six years we put veggie scraps in there and no organic matter came out. When S pulled the bin apart there was just a compacted glunk of anti matter. S tried to burn it. We didn't dare take it to the tip as it looked hazardous. Anyway, it didn't burn so we are ignoring it. We had been happy to just sort of overlook its failure to compost anything over the years and just keep adding to it, but then Ratatoiulle and his buddies moved in so it was time to do something. This was about the time that I was reading about the plague so when S mentioned we should get rid of the bin I quickly agreed. I am so not a fan of mice. While we haven't had a plague of them we do get the occasional one visiting and I'm not keen. I'm certainly not at the stage of stomping on them like some country women do. But then I don't think I could kill a snake with an eggflip either. Not that I know anyone that would do that because killing snakes is of course illegal.
And so we bought a worm farm. It seems to be coming along nicely. Our worms are getting bigger by the day and chomping through our scraps and Jack loves them. He likes to check on them at least once a day, lifting the lid and yelling, "WORMS! WORMS!" Do worms have ears? I hope not for their sake.