I accidentally started a worm farm. It’s not as weird as it sounds. I added some red wigglers to my compost bins to aid decomposition a few years ago, and their population exploded. It’s been a win-win situation because I have great compost, and my four box turtles eat like queens. (Yes, I’m pretty sure they’re all female) In the cool of the day, they congregate around the bins waiting for me to give them worms.
Occasionally though, I compost something that throws off the balance, and the worm population dwindles. Apparently, the large rotting onion I threw in this weekend was a problem. So this morning when I went out to feed my reptile babies, I had a hard time finding worms. I was digging frantically because my painted toenails too closely resemble tasty treats, and the juvenile turtles haven’t learned the phrase “don’t bite the hand/foot that feeds you.” Don’t lecture me about footwear; it’s a lost cause.
I was dropping worms on the ground as quickly as I could find them. The baby took hers and scurried away. Shelly, the big mama, bit into the fat worm I tossed to her, but when she saw me continuing to dig, she let go of it and waited for me to find her a better one. Another juvenile turtle all too happily ran off with her cast-aside worm. Then of course, the only other worms I could find were tiny. I’d given the biggest worm to the biggest turtle, but she refused my offering expecting something better. Her greed was not rewarded today.
How often am I just like Shelly? I want something bigger and better than the perfect thing God has already offered me, so I tell him, “No thanks. I’ll wait on something better.” Enjoy your worms today, friends because someone may just throw a big onion on your pile, and there might not be worms tomorrow.