My Life on a Plate

Wrigglies

I was pleased to be able to take a walk in dry conditions this morning after yesterday's heavy rain. One thing I didn't take into account was the amount of time I'd need to rescue worms stranded from their burrows after the downpour. I just can't help it; I've always done it. Show me a worm in distress and I'm putty in their h...oh, they don't have any do they?. It doesn't matter how crinkled or dried out they are, where there's life there's hope. It doesn't take more than a few seconds to pick the poor little chaps up and pop them on the soil, then cover them with a leaf. Trouble is, after a day and night of heavy rain, I was bending down every five minutes to perform my acts of heroism and I include all the cases of mistaken identity. ie. twigs and elastic bands.

When my son was quite small, he suddenly announced one day he thought I'd be a saint when I arrived in heaven. When I asked him why he replied because I put up with his father. In later years, after watching many of my worm rescuing missions, he concluded I'd be the patron saint of worms.

That would be an honour in my opinion. Worms are very undervalued and essential to our eco system. I don't have a problem with handling them; what's the difference between a worm and a piece of cooked spaghetti, apart from the fact it moves a bit more? Here are some interesting facts about these very important little creatures:

Worms have FIVE hearts and no lungs. (Does this make them very romantic?)

Worms can live for three to four years on average but have been found as old as fifteen. (HOW do you find out a worm's age? Do you count the rings?)

Worms don't like onions, orange peel or GARLIC.

Worms do not die when they are cut in half. One end, usually the front generally regenerates. (How can you tell which is the front end?}

In Ancient Egypt worms were considered essential to agriculture, Cleopatra supposedly made them sacred. Anyone found exporting worms was subject to the death penalty.

I also hunted out a little poem I composed when I was teaching, to read to the children whenever we made a wormery and studied these fascinating creatures.



Life’s not easy being a worm


I’ve got no eyes, so I cannot see

When birds are trying to capture me.

I’ve got no ears, so I cannot hear

When enemies are coming near,

I cannot smell, ‘cos I’ve got no nose,

So how do I manage do you suppose?

Well, I can feel vibrations and that helps a bit

But life ain’t easy – be sure of it.

I can’t stand the sunshine, I don’t like the light,

I have to come out and eat at night.

It ain’t much fun ‘cos I have to stay

In my damp, dark burrow every day.

But I have to come out if the rain pours down

‘Cos it fills up me burrow and then I might drown.

I’m a defenceless creature I have to say,

I ain’t got no legs so I can’t run away

From birds and moles and children’s feet,

And I’m sure to get squashed if I go on the street.

When faced with trouble I’ve no teeth to bite,

No sting to use and no fists to fight,

So I have to stay low down under the ground,

But even that’s not safe when the gardener’s around,

I get tossed by a fork and splattered with water,

Then me tail gets chopped off and I’m three inches shorter,

No wonder I wriggle and slither and squirm,

'Cos life's not easy being a worm.


As the appointed saint, I declare today World Wide Worm Day. If you get the chance to help out some poor unfortunate worm today, please do. You'll feel much better for it, I promise. And will the fishermen/women amongst you please refrain from making hurtful comments.