Flash forward fifteen years, when cooties have gradually disappeared, and my sister calls me up to tell me that she has started keeping a container of worms in her kitchen.  The memories all flood back to me.   

"AUGH!" I said to reen, remembering all the negative occurrences in typical girly-girl fashion.  "How can you keep worms in your kitchen?  That's so gross!"

If you have met me, you have probably met my sister at one point.  Teresa Winky Mak, known to her close friends as Winky, or reen, is my sister and best friend. She has always been the more eccentric of the two of us.  She's an engineer after all.  She has a martial arts expert Mennonite boyfriend who has a lot of wood furniture connections.  Recently, someone immortalized her into a timeshifting ninja in a comic book.  When we were small, she made a solar cooker out of cardboard and foil, and spent half of a day roasting a hot dog, which by day's end, was still cold.  Now, putting my sister into context, we will now discuss why there were worms in her kitchen.  

Turns out she was vermicomposting.  What exactly is vermicomposting, you ask?  In a nutshell, vermicomposting is composting with earthworms to recycle food waste.  "Considering that 60% of landfill waste is organic, and it doesn't aerobically decompose there due to lack of air and limited space, it is a very logical idea.  That organic waste fermenting in landfills is also producing a lot of greenhouse gases, that wouldn't normally be produced with vermicomposting," says reen enthusiastically.  

Last year, my sister started getting involved with an organic garden committee called Food Not Bombs.  Two times a week, she would work in the garden, and bring her food scraps to be composted.  One day, she noticed that this compost pile was stinking worse than an Amoco gas station bathroom in San Diego, and decided that it was time to be turned.  Let's do the math here - a barely 100 pound woman turning over compost weighing almost as much as she does, equals back problems.  By the end of the summer, not even Robaxacet could save her.  

My sister eventually stopped doing this physical labour, and discovered vermicomposting.  "Vermicomposting does not require any turning, because the worms do it for you.  When someone says that something is biogradable, sure it may be true, but due to the lack of air in landfills, this isn't true anymore.  Biodegradable matter ferments, and release greenhouse gases.  While some landfills actually take this gas, and use it for other purposes,  why not stop everything at its source, and just return organic material to the earth? It doesn't take a lot of effort!"

True enough.  Besides, who doesn't love a good project that ends up being a win-win situation for everyone?  

If you don't have a moment to be crafty, you can purchase a bin for the most economical price at Pennie's Lane to Vermicomposting (in Canada), or if you're in the US, from worms.com ranging from a basic one at $39US, or a super deluxe one for almost $200US.  However, if you are extremely crafty, you can make your own by buying the following:

a) a regular plastic (Rubbermaid/Sterilite) container, with a large surface area on top (2' height by 2' length by 3' width), approximately $5 at your local household items retailer
b)  an power drill (can be borrowed) to create aeration holes in the bin
c)  mesh screening, approximately one square foot (to cover up the drilled holes to prevent predators from entering the bin - "Surprisingly, nothing escapes from the bin!" exclaims reen.) - can be purchased from Home Depot, or other stores that sell window-related products.  You can also use some of the netting used to wash fine washables - this can be purchased from your local dollar store.  
d)  coconut coir for bedding can be purchased from your local pet store in the lizard's bedding/substrate section.  It usually costs about $6.99 a block, or $12.99 for three (a super deal!)
e)  moistened and shredded newspaper for bedding, to retain water.  Hand-shredded newspaper tends to stick together a bit.  My sister goes to work and uses the paper shredder when no one is looking.

You will also need some red worms, which can consume their own weight in a span of 24 hours.  Like earth worms, they are afraid of light.  A pound of red worms runs a tab of approximately $50US, but you could probably get a few from a friend (including my sister, please email me for her email address), seeing how quickly they reproduce. reen got about 12 from a friend 8 months ago, and now has almost a thousand.

The Bin

With your bin, drill holes about 2 inches apart, around the perimeter of the bin.  This is for aeration purposes.  Cut little squares of mesh screening big enough to cover the holes, so none of the compost will spill out.  Please note that the worms are afraid of light, so will not crawl out of the holes. Glue the little squares inside the bin using a glue gun. Wash out the part that is exposed to the bedding.   

Bedding

After you've got that all set up, you fill the bin with some of the bedding.  To make the bedding, soak the coconut coir, wring out the excess water and mix the coir with newspaper strips. Let it sit overnight so the water is evenly distributed.  The next day, put in your worms.  To get them to the bottom of the bedding, you have to shine a very bright light into the bin from the top - the worms are afraid of light, so they will head to the bottom.  Let them get used to the environment for about 2 days.  When you have that all set up, you can dump a bit of fruit/vegetable waste into a section of the bin, cover it with some of the bedding, and put the cover on top of the bin.  The bin will not smell, unless you put in copious amounts of organic waste.  That is, nore than the weight of the worms.  

Teresa has maintained her vermicomposter for almost a year now with no problems whatsoever.   I suppose that means that it is time for me to get over my fear of worms.  Peeking cautiously under the lid of the vermicomposter, there is nothing there except some cut up newspaper, and half of a stale bagel.  Nothing out of a horror story.  No gynormous mass of squirmy worms spilling out over the edges.  I'm actually kind of disappointed.  And, by now, being referred to as Worm Girl isn't necessarily so traumatizing after all.