Death in the wormery and a haka

I have a sense of creeping doom.

There is a distinct possibility I may have killed all my worms.

Practically speaking, I don't understand how this can be; there are(were?) 240 worms in my wormery, in conditions far kinder than the cold cold ground ('Whyfor you bury me?...) That's a lot of worms. They can't all be dead! The instructions say they love straw and hay and rodent droppings, so when I cleaned out the gerbils, I dumped the leavings in the wormery. Now admittedly, the contents of two three foot cages of gerbil leavings is a lot; maybe they're still down there chomping their way through it all. Or maybe their little corpses lie crushed under the huge weight of droppings, soil, and veggies from the kitchen. Maybe I am Smokingboot, wormkiller.

Disappointed with my lack of environmental empathy, I am tempted to copy out some of Blake's cheery worm poetry, but it seems premature. After all, they may be fine. So instead, I will add a link that cheers me up.

Below is a link to a demonstration of a famous New Zealand Haka. It's loud, so you may have to be careful. The intro is a bit dull but thankfully short, or you can cut straight to watching hairy men being very fierce. The subtitles help. Weird, the words seem really positive and fun, and the faces look as though they want to kill you. I love it, but I have no real clue what it's about; looks as though it may be a bringer-up of the sun, though who 'The Hairy Man,' is, I have yet to learn.I find it fascinating.

http://www.newzealand.com/travel/about-nz/culture/haka-feature/haka.cfm