Waterville Wanderings | Part 2 Worms, Grubs, and the Black Soldier Fly

Buying worms gives me the jitters. I really try, but it's something deep-rooted in me. My hands start shaking and I feel a little pukish. Apprehensively, I reached into the cooler at the store and was able to pick up the styrofoam cups. They felt oddly heavy as I carried them to the front of the store. I held them out in front of me, terrified the lids would pop off and a giant nightcrawler would emerge. I asked the store clerk to please open them and make sure they were alive. It became an intense moment, with the people behind me in line looking on as if we were going to witness a great spectacle. The clerk slowly lifted the lid off and everyone moved forward to see. A nightcrawler wriggled to the surface as if making his debut, and the clerk quickly replaced the lid, saying, "It moved, It's alive!" She did the same with the other and I was very thankful to have that part over and done with.

At home, I had a bin all prepared with dirt and layers of chicken feed. The soil was moist, but not too wet, though I'm sure the bottom layers were probably pretty wet from recent rains.