dreaming of betty

dedicated to grandma betty

may the knowledge of the generations
seep slowly like sap from ancient trees
sweet and subtle,
soothing,
sacred,
sabiduria
que deslisa
sobre nuestros
suenos.

Winter Worms

Under my kitchen counter in a 20 gallon plastic tub, one finds a world of magic wriggling and waiting.  Through the middle juts a PVC pipe punctured with dozens of holes for a bit of airflow.   Inside a terrarium equipped with all sorts of almost to mostly decomposed kitchen scraps, one will find slug-slime trails and oft times a slug.  If one is fortunate, one might see centipedes, fruit flies and other rolly-polly type insects.  And if one digs, as one aught to do, reaching into the depths of the moist organic material, shredded paper and rich black soil, one may encounter the writhing beauty of the winter worms.  Yet heed my warning and excavate with care for there're itty-bitty baby worms a wigglin' down there.  And take a second look, before reaching in the bin, fore there prowls a mighty matriarch creeping over her lair.