The worms love the challenges of Lego maneuvering almost as much as kids love the combo of composting worms and Legos. And I love amazing architectural replicas made of mashed potatoes, sushi, and recycled boxes. It's time to push myself to infinity and beyond.
Are you with me? Do you secretly need to make Lego landmarks for invertebrates more than you need to fight lime and mildew? To go where no eisenia foetida have gone before! To the big Lego gelato stand above the Manhattan hustle and/or bustle!
I'm going to have to pace myself, breaking the resolution into manageable sections spread over twelve months. After all, I still have two to three jobs. I need to deposit paychecks and unload the dishwasher. This stuff takes precious hours from work toward my goal.
Thanks to those who have inspired me to begin this mission:
- The son formerly known as the Woolly Mammoth for sorting the family collection of Legos by color into handy plastic storage drawers.
- The crazy storytime lady who introduced me to the High Line.
- My siblings for participating in hundreds of hours of Lego camper construction for Tonka pickup trucks and Liddle Kiddle dolls, plus Lost in Space Chariot astro-RVs.
- My preschool director and Bentley for humoring my creative endeavors with composting worms. You might still be able to get a Red Worm Composting tee shirt in your stocking.
- The Carrollton children's services librarian for convincing me kids would enjoy a worm program and bringing out my hidden stand-up (yet invertebrate) comedian.
- Howie, my structural engineer father, for keeping it practical.
- Fritzi, my mom, for her early commitment to recycling prescription bottles in the service of early childhood art.
- The son formerly known as Danger Baby for his dedication to dumpster diving in the pursuit of excellent styrofoam for building replicas.
- To my son formerly known as Speech and Debate for his keen sense of humor from birth pretty much.
- To my grandson, Mr. Short Stack, for convincing me the next generation needs recycling and crazy grandmothers.
- And to all the little red wigglers... who want to visit the big, decaying apple.
© 2014 Nancy L. Ruder