What I learned about Oscar the Grouch and his Pet Worm

Oscar the Grouch had a pet worm.

Not having watched Sesame Street in decades, I can't say whether that worm is still around, but despite Oscar's famously grumpy disposition, he treated his worm well.

I met many, many worms today.

Rob dug up the garden row where I wanted to plant my heirloom tomatoes. Dug up is the operative part of that sentence. He then looked at me and casually said, "...you may have to do a little weeding."

A little.

I stared at what looked less like a garden bed and more like the aftermath of an archaeological dig. Every root, weed, and unsuspecting worm had been brought to the surface.

"A little weeding" may be the understatement of the summer.

As I pulled roots apart, I carefully tucked every worm I found back into the soil. I honestly have no idea if that's what you're supposed to do, but somewhere in the back of my mind I remember reading that worms are good for the garden. Whether that's science or just wishful thinking, the worms got the benefit of the doubt.

As my Spotify playlist wandered through '70s and '80s music, I found myself slowing down. I liked the feel of the soil in my hands. I thought about all the life beneath our feet and how we're not really separate from it. We're made of many of the same things—water, minerals, and the elements that sustain life.

I also learned something today: garden when the skies are gray.

Sunny days are beautiful, but they can be hot. Gray skies, cool air, and even a little rain make weeding surprisingly pleasant. Mother Nature, as it turns out, knows what she's is doing.

By the end of the afternoon, the zucchini, celery, and heirloom tomatoes were planted, and I'd tucked herbs here and there throughout the garden—partly because they look beautiful, and partly because who knows when another garden row might need "a little weeding."

And if Oscar taught me anything, it's this: be kind to worms.