Going to the Garden to Eat Worms..

The things I do for that photographer husband of mine. I don't mind stripping off and posing but today? He had me holding a handful of wiggly, squiggly, squirming, warm, very alive WORMSES.

In my bare hand.

*shudders and goes to wash the paws again*

Yep, wormery inhabitants turned up, and somebody had to be the brave volunteer. Mum held them, with gloves on, but that wasn't good enough. Had to be flesh there.

Dad? Nope.
Mum? Nope, not removing the gloves.
Julie the cleaner? No way.
Forest? Unfortunately (and amazingly conveniently) in charge of the camera.
Hobbits? Eep....

I'm so glad he didn't need a reshoot. Worms now safely in their wormery, presumably munching away with glee on the kitchen scraps we provided.

It was nice being out in the garden en famille in the sunshine, opening up the intriguing box labelled "Urgent: Live Worms" and everybody peering in and then stepping back when they started to wiggle.. and then me getting the easy part (other than photographic worm wrangling) of reading the instructions out while mum and dad set things up and mixed bedding and poured worms and fed them and stuff.

Blue sky, bright sunshine, what else would folks be doing in their gardens for entertainment? ::giggle::

Edit: Worms are groovy, and in the singular I am a great admirer of same, and willing handler. An entire handful of three different types of wiggler? *squick*

Worms! Aieee!

Right, I had to suffer the plague of worms (see previous post if you missed it), so the rest of you can too - they're cute little fellers really, I'm just still squicking over the handful of wiggliness aspect.

Pic behind cut in case of phobics.

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