Captain’s Log, November 20, 2013
I thought I would become a Meal Worm Farmer, but it appears that the Meal Worms are farming ME. I shouldn’t complain, because I have learned a valuable lesson. It would seem that there are some bloody bloggers out there who would do something one blasted time, take pictures, and then post it on the Internet, presenting themselves as an expert on the matter. One bloody blog post does not an expert make! All is not as it seems. (OH, the hypocrisy is smothering me!)
These blasted buggers and their incessant neediness are driving me MAD!!!
E-v-e-r-y D-a-y… I must tend to them, separating the worms from the pupae, and the pupae from the beetles. It’s never-ending, I tell you! There is also… yes, the culling of the dead. THAT IS WHAT THEY DO NOT TELL YOU! There have been casualties— their puffy, darkened, bloated carcasses stare at me with dead bug-ly eyes, begging me to hide their shame.
I pick them out, place them on a Kleenex, and unceremoniously toss them out onto the patio. Their lifeless bodies don’t have long to be on display, for the ravening chickens fight each other to get one tiny dead morsel. The chickens do not care; dead or alive, pupae, beetle or worm. They eat the dead with relish, and look up at me for me for more. “Nay, I tell you…until next time.” Simmer down now, ye Fowl!
I have found that the You Tuber who boasted of using chicken feed was just playing a cruel joke on all who would believe him. He said, “I use ground up chicken feed.” He made no mention of the horrible stench. I had my meal worms no longer than a few days, when foul odor permeated the kitchen. I could not figure out where it was coming from. Until finally…I followed the odor and found it…in the meal worm container!
I dumped the worms and the odoriferous chicken feed on the cement and picked the worms out one by one and put them on a fresh bed of oats. They laughed at me, as a child who poops in his pants when caught. The shame covered me like a wet blanket.
I relegated them to the garage after that.
The ‘experts’ mention to be careful of mold, yet I continually fight it, in spite of giving these blasted buggers fresh carrots every few days, even though they have hardly taken a bite of it. Wasteful creatures!
I hear them screaming and bickering at night when I’m trying to sleep, complaining that their quarters are too cramped. Selfish, needy nematodes! I read, too, that they like the darkness, demons that they are, so I cut a piece out of the paper chicken feed bags to place inside the containers. They treat it as a play-toy and cling to it when I open the container lid to separate them, and I must flick them off to prevent them from escaping. Maybe that is their plan, the ungrateful *bleeeeeeep*. (Pardon me for my French, but I am at my whit’s end).
I am contemplating buying a tub, and dumping them all in there together. Let them eat each other! See if I care! THAT WILL SHOW THEM!
If it helps to preserve my sanity, I will do whatever it takes!!!
I feel I am losing my sanity, for I am contemplating leaving them alone, unattended, with the same carrots all week, to wallow amongst their dead while I am gone for a week.
Arkansas, my -*blleeeeeeeep*- you worms!!!!
Heheheheheh. HEHEHEHEHEH. Haaaa!Haaawww!HEEEEEHEEEEEE! HoooooHoooo. OH, it hurts.