Worm Rescue

Imagine waking up before dawn, swinging your feet over the bed to get up for a shower, and noticing that your lush, new, tan-colored carpet seems to be moving a little. And feels not very... carpety. But maybe a little slimy. Yep. After five inches of rain in six hours, we had the invasion of the worms.

Luckily, Tate was sleeping next to me (Chris was at the station), so I woke him up and told him to help me get the worms safely to the worm box. (Yes, we have a worm box. It was actually purchased AS a worm box and given to me as a gift. Not a joke gift, but a gift-gift. I like worms. I don't know why. But lucky for these particular flooded-out-of-dirt-and-home-worms, they picked a house to invade with a worm lover, ready to rescue with a worm box, already soiled.)

As we got all the obvious ones into the box, we realized they were coming in the cracks in the doors faster than we could catch them. So I opened the dining room sliding glass door, and five more fell into my hair and on my gown and arms from the cracks on top. Nice.

Tate took this job very seriously. He wouldn't even stop to smile for the camera, and I think he may have even been a bit disgusted that I was stopping on the mission for a photo-shoot. The worms were running out of moisture by the second, and we were at 39 rescued and counting.

Once Sammy woke up, we had stopped counting. They both found several more, and I left them to move furniture and finish the job. We found about six the next morning, and several each morning for a while after. Hopefully we WON'T find any dead and dried out under the beds later this summer! We love living in nature!