So I go out to the yard with pitchfork in hand, ready to turn over the soil next to the compost pile for planting giant pumpkins. To my dismay, I keep hitting something at a depth of about 6 inches. I call Annika, my pre-archaeology high schooler, to dig up the object. She brings out her big pick, her small pick, a trowel, a hand rake, some brushes for fine work, and a spoon:
The pipe is open, so she begins to clean it out with care.
Using the fine pick and the spoon, she clears the soil from the mouth of the pipe...
Worms. Why did it have to be worms?