Worms! Worms!

At this time last year, I was pretty convinced that all of my neighbors were crazy. Now I am older, wiser, and have had the opportunity to get to know people. So, now I know it is just the one neighbor who is crazy. Her antics range from taking over 9 months to learn my name, to asking "What happened to your face?" everytime she saw me for two months straight (some people have stress-induced acne despite being in their thirties and are quite self-conscious about it, so I'll thank you to SHUT UP). We got into an interesting conversation last fall about my compost, wherein she claimed to be unable to weed her back garden because there are too many worms. I'm sorry, come again? Too many worms and she is afraid of them and they are coming from the compost bin on my side of the fence. Could I please please please move it? I politely informed her that there isn't another good sunny spot in my yard, so the compost will have to remain. She told me the city officials told her I had to move it. I told her that the city gave me the compost bin for free, so I find that to be unlikely. I called the waste/ recycling office after our delightful chat and determined that I do not, in fact, have to move my compost. I don't know what city official neighbor-lady called, but whoever it was put an idea in her head; an idea of how to get my compost to be a verifiable nuisance: odor. Apparently if it smells, I am officially "disturbing" her (happily, compost cones don't smell - that is why they are great). Fast forward to today: when I got home I had a busines card taped to my front door with a hand-written note asking me to call Allentown's Recycling Office about my compost. I called and had a lovely five minute conversation with the woman who came by our house today and gave her permission to sniff my compost tomorrow. She apologetically said that they are required by law to follow up on all complaints (even the crazy ones), but that after she sniffs our compost the issue should be resolved.  It's days like this I think to myself, thank god she doesn't know about the dog-poop septic tank on the other side of the yard.