The Dirt on Worm Farming
āĻāĻ āĻ-āĻŦā§āĻā§āĻ° āĻŦāĻŋāĻˇā§ā§
As I lift the cover to show a friend the secret to my gardening success, her face dims and all she can say is that "it looks like dirt". I sink my hand and then my forearm deep into the dark, moist loam and pull out a handful. Wiggly, wriggly, slimy red worms slither about the loam, between my fingers, and on my palm.
They begin to extend their body upwards, down, and around when the special cells on their bodies dubbed "eye spots" begin to detect light. My slimy handful of worms quickly stretch their bodies, then pull back together hurrying into the darker center of the pile.
I place the handful of moist black earth back into the box. In the upper right hand corner, I lift a mound of damp shredded newspaper to reveal a pile of kitchen scraps surrounded by thousands of crawling compost eaters.
āĻ°ā§āĻāĻŋāĻ āĻ āĻĒāĻ°ā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻ˛ā§āĻāĻ¨āĻžāĻā§āĻ˛āĻŋ
āĻ˛ā§āĻāĻ āĻ¸āĻŽā§āĻĒāĻ°ā§āĻā§
Brenda Lotito is an avid organic gardener and owner of a box or two of red wigglers. If you visit her?beware?her first words are usually ?Want to see my worm farm?? She promotes the responsible use of worms as recyclers of organic waste. She currently resides in Liverpool, New York with Jim, her husband of fifteen years and their four spirited sons.
