So, Claypot, how is your first day back at work?
Oh it's great, really rockin' so far. The internet was down for hours, thus depriving me of any contact with the wide world. But you know, I'm cool with that. I wasn't tearing my hair out in frustration or anything. Oh no, not me.
I decided to go home and make...porridge. Don't ask me why. Well I made the porridge. With a coupla cinammon sticks. I'm trying to fish out the sticks before I put the porridge in the bowl (said Baby Bear).
There's other stuff in there. Stuff that looks like cooked worms. But no, surely not. Perhaps they are the brown husks from the oats.
I decide to make some more porridge. But first I tip the oats on to a plate. Writhing. I'm surprised the plate didn't move off the countertop with the worm-force.
The oats had been in a box inside a plastic bag. Could the worms have come from the porridge factory? Hmmm, I don't think so. And so my 20-minute snack break turns into an hour-long deworming of the dry goods press*. By the end of it I have a bucket full of foodstuffs that is churning away like a washing machine. Still, it will make good compost.
*Press: This is what people in Ireland call a cupboard. I'm going there in three weeks where I shall use words like press to my heart's content and not have people looking at me funny.