Remember the Death Star? Yeah, that's what we named the composter when we so innocently decided to try composting again.
We were going to be one with nature. Good stewards of the land. Produce beautiful, loamy compost and till the earth. Sounds good. Then there's reality - what we really did was create Candyland for... the Black Soldier Fly larvae.
I'm not even joking. And here's the really crazy thing - it means we hit the composting jackpot. Like you're *supposed* to want your composter so full of these things that it seems reasonable to wonder if they're forming a plot to take over the house.
They're fairly miraculous - they can eat A LOT of food scraps. As in, we've put all of our food scraps into it for the past 6 months, and the amount of food in it has actually decreased every day since they showed up. And, according to an article on the subject, they can process anything except mammal bones. Which is a relief - at least they'll leave my bones when they make a move for the house.
But, as gross as they are - and they're gross - they're also wildly efficient. So we decided it was time to make the best of it, and rather than trying to eradicate them we named them. Marge. You know, like Marge the Maggot. (Although Greg the Grub might've been an easier sell.) So now every night we're like "who wants to go feed Marge??" I rarely volunteer.