Be my guest #1: John Medd and his Worm Top 5!

Brilliant!  Today Sun Dried Sparrows welcomes its first guest contribution and what a fine one it is.  I'm delighted to be able to publish this fascinating, entertaining (and educational!) post by our talented fellow blogger John Medd, whose own place of residence can be found here: http://www.johnmedd.com/

(You're far too kind in your introduction below, John, but I'm dead chuffed that you felt inspired.  Also very touched by your choice of subject matter.)

I'm really grateful to John for this lovely piece and for stepping in to help me out; more contributions are always welcome.  Enjoy,

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When C recently announced to the world that her writing mojo appeared to have temporarily deserted her and was asking for cover in the shop I thought OK, I could put a shift in on a midweek afternoon if it means she won't have to pull the shutters down; I can smile politely at the customers if they ask me any tricky questions - I'll just say, "that's a very interesting question, I'll get back to you on that if I may..." So these are big shoes to fill, let me tell you, I've been reading C's captivating musings for nigh on a decade now and I can't even begin to get near the fine detail that she puts into her subject matter; whether it be drawing & illustration, Triumph Heralds, rambling, '70s punk bands (her love of Generation X's guitar player is unrivalled) or Bippity Boppity hats, I can only watch from the sidelines in wonderment.

And that is precisely why I shan't be exploring any of the above material - even if I feel some of them are pulling me in (Generation X, definitely). No, today I'm going to scribble a few words about - wait for it - worms; a topic I know is very near to C's heart.  Her passion for and knowledge of worms and wormeries is something that she has touched upon in her writing often and, as with most people who are passionate about things, their affection for their subject matter just oozes off the page.

However, my ramblings today on these amazing invertebrates is going to concentrate on one or two of my favourites - a Worm Top 5 if you will, and no, it won't include the Alien chestburster that exploded out of John Hurt's chest cavity, nor will it have among its ranks Jeff the 600 foot subway worm in Men In Black 2.  Hilarious though they both are.  Ditto the talking worm in Jim Henson's Labyrinth.

It will come as no surprise that worms feature heavily in mythology and legends.  They are often associated with snakes, serpents and dragons and the worm's symbolic meaning is divided between death and renewal.  Compost Corner, anyone?

The legend of the Cockburn Worm has its roots in the North East of England - a part of the world raided by the Vikings for centuries during the Dark Ages.  The Viking longboats often had worms carved into their bows.  One particular raider, personified as a monstrous Viking worm dragon, plundered the village of Cockburn in the Tees Valley but was finally slain by John Conyers.  Even the fact that Lewis Carroll would later borrow the story as the basis for his nonsense poem Jabberwocky still didn't guarantee it a place in my Top 5.

That position is occupied by Walter the Worm.  He's the brainchild of Roger Hargreaves, creator of the Mr Men series.  Walter had many cameo appearances in various Mr Men adventures, but was given his own book later on in the run.  A big shout out to the early bird too.

The Number 4 slot is a strange choice.  I'll tell you for why.  I'm no Whovian - my love of Dr Who began and ended with Troughton and Baker with Pertwee in the middle - but here's a cracking little worm related tale.  It stars Matt 'Boxhead' Smith, an oft used science fiction trope - memory wiping.  Long story short, if you touch the Memory Worm it takes the last hour of your memory away; get bitten by it and you lose decades.  Watch this three and a bit minute knockabout clip and all will become clear.  Will you remember to do that?

In at Number 3 is the Mongolian Death Worm.  A cryptozoological creature reported to exist in the Gobi Desert.  Like Big Foot, sightings are rare.  But it's bright red in colour and two foot long.  Allegedly.  Oh, and it will kill you just by touching it.  If you're looking for excuses not to go to the Gobi Desert for your holiday this year, I think this may well be it.

I love this next one.  Number 2 in my worm countdown is The Lowly Worm.  He pops up from time to time in Richard Scarry's delightful children's books.  And just in case you confuse him for any of the other worms I've mentioned here, he'll be the one wearing the Tyrollean hat.

Toppermost of the Poppermost is my favouritest worm ever.  It's Danny Kaye's Inch Worm - and is taken from the 1952 movie Hans Christian Anderson. (And yes, something of an ear worm!)

The song, written by Loesser Frank, has many fans, not least David Bowie.  This is what the artist formerly known as David Jones had to say about it:

"I loved it as a kid and it's stayed with me forever.  I keep going back to it.  You wouldn't believe the amount of my songs that have sort of spun off from that one song.  Not that you'd really recognise it.  Something like 'Ashes To Ashes' wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for 'Inchworm'.  There's a child's nursery rhyme element in it, and there's something so sad and mournful and poignant about it.  It kept bringing me back to the feeligns of those pure thoughts of sadness that you have as a child, and how they're so identifiable even when you're an adult.  There's a connection that can be made between being a somewhat lost five-year-old and feeling a little abandoned and having the same feeling when you're in your twenties.  And it was that song that did that for me."

And here he is singing it:

Vermicular love

They excite me so much, I can’t resist telling people.  Anyone who’ll listen: my hairdresser, the neighbours, the guy who works down the chip shop (swears he’s Elvis), you….   

I’m generally met with a look of complete indifference and the feeling that nobody really cares.   I understand.  Maybe it’s hard to get how anyone can be this excited by worms.  But I have fallen head-over-heels in love with my little herd ( to use the correct term) of Tiger Worms and European Nightcrawlers  - as introduced here.

They’re tucked away in the shed for the Winter now, their Wormery home wrapped in paper and bubble wrap to keep them warm, and every day I trudge down there first thing, before I’ve even had a wash or a cup of tea, to check on them.  Lift the lid and have a little peek, careful not to expose them to prolonged bright light, as their skin is ultra-sensitive to it and too much will cause them harm.  Check the thermometer on the wall and if it’s below 10 degrees, tuck them up again.

There’s something incredibly soothing about checking out your worms - it should be prescribed as a form of therapy.  Unlike the common earthworm which likes to burrow deep, composting worms spend more time on the surface so it’s possible to see them just by lifting their bedding.  Watch them slowly eating their way through their food, or occasionally one may climb up the inside of the worm bin for a little wander and a change of scene, especially if they sense it’s raining outside, which they can  - even from inside a bin, inside a shed.  Who knows what else they know that we can't even begin to understand?

Occasionally I’ll find a pair mating – side by side, pressed up to each other tightly for a couple of hours (!), hermaphrodites with multiple hearts (three more than a Time Lord!) - am I selling them to you yet?

If not, just one more thing....   It struck me as I was walking yesterday that worms truly are the gentlest and worthiest of creatures.  They don’t fight or kill each other or any other being over food, territory, or mates. They co-exist harmoniously with other species and are undemanding of each other.  If there’s not enough food for them all in one place, older worms will move on to seek it elsewhere to let the younger ones feed more easily.  And they self-regulate their population – too many baby worms starting to hatch in a confined space? – they’ll simply stop breeding until their numbers level out again. Maybe we could learn a thing or two from them.

I ♥ my worms

Tigers and nightcrawlers

The box arrived a couple of weeks ago:

‘FRAGILE - CONTAINS LIVING CREATURES - OPEN IMMEDIATELY’.

I sometimes wonder what couriers make of these packages when they load them onto their vans.  I’d be curious, inclined to press an ear against the taped up cardboard in the hope of hearing something –  a clue - scratching or yawning or purring perhaps.   Checking the corners for a protruding claw or the tip of a scaly tail.   Or smells.  Seepage, even.

Inside this box was a small bag, filled with something soft.  I thought it might wriggle but it didn’t move, and it didn’t make a noise, or smell or seep.  I was very excited….

…My Tigers and European Nightcrawlers had arrived!

I didn’t know before I bought them that worms could have such exotic names.  It’s not just me, is it, for whom  ‘European Nightcrawler’  evokes images of neon cities under black skies, of mysterious women smoking long cigarettes and trains rumbling hypnotically through a dark forest landscape to the soundtrack of Bowie’s  ‘ Low’ album?

So I’m now the proud owner of wonderfully titled wild tigers (Tiger Worms, aka Brandlings and Red Wigglers!) and nightcrawlers, all 500grams of them.  Did you know worms have five hearts? They are also of course eyeless, toothless (ah, imagine a worm with teeth), hermaphrodites, who breed prolifically, and I’ve become the custodian of a small colony making their home inside a special Wormery bin. 

I’m already getting disproportionately fond of them, giving them all names – there’s Mavis, and Fluffy, and Tinkerbell….   No,  it’s okay, don’t worry, I’m just sticking to Worm, it’s easier that way…  What I didn’t know before researching the whole Wormery thing, though, was that they’re quite sensitive creatures and do require some care and attention  – they need time to settle in and adjust to their new surroundings (often trying to escape on their first few nights, I eased them in by leaving a solar light on to start with) and it’s important not to overfeed them, let them get too cold or hot, etc.  So you know, I’ve been like a protective parent these last couple of weeks, checking up on them regularly, chopping their food into tiny pieces, making sure they’ve plenty of bedding to snuggle down into, bless ‘em.  They seem to be doing well so far.

And then the point of it all – they get to devour all our kitchen scraps, and turn it into top quality compost.  So basically, in return for decent food and lodgings, they pay us in shit.  Strangely, it sounds like a good deal to me.

David Bowie: Subterraneans