The Sock is not happy. No the Sock is not happy at all. She was just coming in from working in the garden, tired but happy in this first day of real spring warmth and sunshine and about to reward herself with a caffè corretto (an Italian coffee consisting of a shot of espresso "corrected" with a shot of brandy). As she walked into the kitchen a slight whiff from veggie waste box reminded her it was about time to feed the wormery.
The wormery is the Bedsock's project. He was desperate to have one but knowing the way it was likely to go the Sock warned him that he would have to look after it, he would have to find somewhere (sensible) to put it, and that a wormery was forever not just for Christmas. So the Bedsock bought one and drowned the first two lots of worms by not draining off the wormery properly. The Sock warned three strikes and the wormery was out but this lot of worms have thrived. They are not the only things to have thrived.......
The Bedsock has seen fit to move the wormery into the shed for the winter where it is blocking the door and preventing any access into the shed. The Sock is already pissed off about this. When the Sock opened said wormery today imagine her absolute delight to find it was absolutely writhing with maggots! Great moving mounds of the b*ggers many of which were in the lid and now on the floor of the shed and on the sleeve of the Sock's fleece! Gagging with disgust the Sock ran back into the house to take photographic evidence of what she had had to endure.
Then in an heroic gesture she donned some thin surgical gloves and scooped some of the worst piles of maggots off the bin and into an old washing up bowl on the ground next to her. Trying to dig out some of the goddamn maggots entrenched around the rim of the wormery lid meant that one spidged out of the rim and straight into her face - luckily the Sock's mouth was closed. Puke! The Sock looked down and to add to her total happiness she found a cat had chosen to sit in the maggot bowl! Joy! The Sock kicked the cat out of the bowl along with a shower of freakin' maggots.
At this point the telephone rings. It is the Bedsock saying he is on the cross-channel ferry on the way back from Belgium. He had better have bought the Sock some chocolates. The Sock returns to the garden to find the other cat now sat in the maggot bowl. Sob!
Then just to put the bloody cap on it the Sock finds there was no memory card in the blasted camera so she doesn't have any photos!
The Sock can't wait for the Belgian chocolates so goes out and buys a Cadbury's flake. The cats are locked out until they have shaken the maggots off. The Bedsock will have to do a lot to make up for this horror - the Sock can feel a Gabriel Ash greenhouse in the offing....