Flying thing-a-migs.

About two months ago, I noticed that some of my houseplants were outgrowing their pots. If they had been kids, I would have said that their jeans were way to short and tight for them. Anyway, I decided it was time to transplant them. We went down to our nearest garden center and got some new pots for them. I really took my time in selecting exactly which pot would be best for each of the plants who were in dire need of a larger size pot.

What I should have done was made sure I had brand new potting soil.

Instead, I used the potting soil that we have had out in the garden. I knew that there were some worms in it, so I just made sure that the spoonfuls I was putting into each pot was minus any worm, or anything that even looked like it could be such a creature. Well, since then we have been invaded by some sort of flying thing-a-migs. They kinda look like a gnats, but not quite. They don't bite. They're just annoying as hell. They're not even partial to any particular plant, seems to prefer any and all of them. Doesn't matter whether the plant is wet or dry. These flying thing-a-migs don't appear to live very long, because I find their dead littered all around the plants. However, they are annoying because they are here, there, everywhere.

So, I bet you are wondering why I mentioned the worms or being mindful of not adding any worms to the soil, right? Well, besides these flying thing-a-migs that obviously came out of the soil that we used from a bag in our garden, instead of biting the bullet and purchasing some spanking new soil, I found out the other day after putting all my houseplants in the bathtub and giving them a nice tropical type of shower, that one of these houseplants of mine left me a present. A nice plump worm was sitting, well not really sitting, but lying in my bathtube. And thinking it was a stick or something, I went to pick it up.

Gasp! Oh. My. God.

I damn near had a heart-attack when I picked - what I thought was a stick - up. It wasn't no stick. No sirree. It was about a four inches long (ah, that's 10 centimeters to any and all you Euro-types who don't measure in feet and inches anymore). What a gawd-awful feeling, squishy and all. It even makes me feel yucky just writing about it.

Honestly, I have no ending to this monologue. I would just love to get rid of these damn flying thing-a-migs, and have some assurance that there are no more worms just waiting to show themselves. Maybe we should get some new potting soil, and do some replanting.

"Hey Krip...what we doin' tomorrow?"