Blog RSS FeedThe faux-tao of worming.
I picked up a worm this morning–bare-handed! This is huge, because even though I adore my worms and devote many hours to finding them and feeding them and maintaining their expensive worm habitat, I am still afraid of the buggers and have to wear gloves to actually touch them.
But this morning, as I was walking Winston, I saw a red wiggler right in the street, which is a Very Bad Place for a worm to be. The sun was about to pop out, which is a Very Bad Situation for a worm. So what did I do? I scooped him up! Well, I tried to scoop him up. I sort of prodded him, and then he was like, “Nooo, don’t touch me,” and I tried to pick him up and he did that worm thing where they flip around and they’re all, “DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T EAT ME! LEAVE ME ALONE!”
I am the worm whisperer, in case you were wondering.
So anyway, as he was flipping, he became three-dimensional enough for me to pluck off the asphalt. Then I cupped my hand around him and carried him out to the worm bin, where he seemed extremely happy and relieved to be set in the soft, moist soil full of yummy kitchen scraps.
I don’t know if I will continue to touch them with my bare hands, but it’s a step in the right direction, anyway.
After I dropped him off, I went back out to look for more worms in distress. The street is littered with all sorts of debris from the recent rain, some of which can look slightly wormish. So I used my bird-watching technique.
I’m warning you, this is going to come across as me being very deep. Instead of looking for movement, I look at the silence. Instead of letting your eyes dart about for birds, just observe the tree in its lack of motion. Then the small movements will pop out at you.
I tried this with the worms, but I don’t think there were any more in plain sight.
So anyway, that look at the silence thing has been part of my bird-sighting process for years, and whenever I do it, I’m struck by how zen it sounds, but how there is actually no greater application for it or any way to translate it to life.
I mean, I don’t know, maybe there is, but I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve thought, “Aha! I can solve this problem! I will just look at the silence.”
But it sounds cool. And like I said, it’s great when you’re trying to find a bird in a tree. Just don’t go trying to use it to solve any life problems, because I think you’ll be disappointed.
The Daily Plah: Day 7
Currently reading: Superfreakonomics
Other notable facts: I sewed a very cute (in my humble opinion) little clutch-type bag today. Then I tried to take it shopping, and I realized that clutch-type bags are really more for going out and looking cute than shopping in a functional manner. Maybe I’ll post a picture tomorrow or something.
- The wormpocalypse has begun.
- A bit of this and a bit of that and a song about birds.
- On the first day of Christmas…
- Baby quilt: "Adelaide’s Birds"
March 7th, 2010 Katie Alender
I’m always petrified of holding a worm because I worry that I’ll squeeze to hard and divide the poor thing in two. But I’m glad you saved that little worm from impending doom.
Thank you so much for this life advice and worm story.
I remember one cold winter day in Jersey, it rained like crazy and the neighborhood kids ended up squeamishly tiptoeing to the elementary school where our school bus picked up our bunch of middle-schoolers every morning. There were thousands of worms all up and down the streets. I was surprised that even the most bully-ish of the kids were trying really hard not to squish any.
Worms rock! (Quietly, on tiny veggie-matter guitars)
When I go fishing and only need a small piece of worm for bait, I use scissors. I can’t stand ripping worms in half (because they stretch foreeeeeever) My scissors are pink and all the fishermen laugh at me.