The kind of worms you want to have that is: wonderful wiggly working worms. We actually got them as a wedding present from our lovely next door neighbour. I had been to a worm workshop to learn how to look after them. The key mantra from the workshop was "never overfeed the worms." I'm guessing this is because overfeeding them would mean that the scraps would rot and make the worm farm a little smelly. However; being the overly cautious person I am, I took this instruction a tad too seriously. The poor worms probably thought they were on some Atkins-like diet. It literally took a couple of years of holding up the pictures in the booklet next the worm farm and peering at one then the other and back again as if I was a hunched over, scrunch-faced, squinting, short-sighted biddy trying to play spot the difference with two entirely different pictures, to get the idea that perhaps I could, maybe, possibly, probably, should feed them a little bit more. This timid step taken, I was soon rewarded with an expanding population of worms and a usable quantity of that liquid gold: worm wee. The plants do adore a good cup of worm tea as often as possible. The only problem is deciding upon which plant to bestow that great honour.
Before I started gardening I never thought I'd see the contents of an animal's bowels in all its shapes and forms (not to mention smells) as a prized possession. Thankfully the worm farm and wee smells almost rainforesty - quite a pleasant surprise when compared to the smell of other types of fertiliser.
We have yet to progress the worm farm to a three storey veritable vermiculture villa but we're slowly getting there. In the meantime they're in need of a new blanket to snuggle under, having managed to eat the last one. It seems they like a decent coffee. Given their castings look a little like coffee grounds perhaps we will soon get enough of those to be able to offer the plants tea or coffee with their biscuit of hay.
Worm wee factory
The scraps exploding through their chewed-up blanket