I Like Worms.

Worms are fun. For the last couple of weekends I've been digging in the yard, turning up sod for a garden to be planted in late May, after the last potential for frost has passed. Digging feels good - weird muscles hurt that I didn't know I had. My clothes were filthy, like when I was a kid. (flashback) My cousins and I rolled down this big sandpile my uncle had for his excavation business. We had a game going to see who could roll down the sandpile fastest. My mother called me "Pigpen" like on the Peanuts, I was so filthy. (/flashback)

There were long, lazy nightcrawlers who wriggled back into the earth; vexed-looking white grubs, curled up enjoying a winter-nap, who clearly registered their distaste for the light; and my favorite, the short, fat worms that slime your hands when you pick them up and then zizzle back into the dirt as soon as you let them go.

Ok, I'm a weird girl. I like worms! Sometime, I'll tell you about my imaginary friend, Patches.