"I can just fling these in the garden, right?" I asked as she scooped about half a kilo of compost-and-inhabitants into my container. I took one look at the squirming contents and put the lid on tight.
"I don't think so," she answered, "You may have to look that up. I think they might die."
The thought of a bunch of dead worms was even more repellent than the live ones I now possessed. They were quite active and I was wishing I hadn't chosen a clear plastic receptacle. It wasn't attractive to watch.
I thought - that's OK I'll look it up, the internet will tell me.
But the internet, when consulted, didn't want to discuss it.
"Can I put tiger worms in my garden?" I asked it.
The internet informed me that New Zealand has at least 171 species of native earthworms and 23 non-native species. Not helpful.
I turned to Facebook, asking a friend who has a fascination with bugs and weeds what she knew about my newly acquired slithery friends.
"Not much," she said "but I will find out".
I was greatly relieved to leave the issue in her hands, until she came back with a reply. "Yes, sort of . . . they will be fine in your compost but they can't burrow in actual dirt," she told me. "They are too small and flaccid".
Now that's not a word you hear often. Thankfully. But it appeared there was worse to come: "And they can't cope with the cold".
What? How was this going to work? Was I going to have to knit them little wormy jerseys? What size needles would I need and where would I get a pattern?
No, it seemed I was stuck with my shivering, flaccid worms, in their clear plastic container, inside my house until the weather warmed up.
First I stuck the container in a black plastic bag. That made the worm family much more socially acceptable. Then I bunged them in a corner and ignored them until I had some vege scraps I needed to dispose of.
It was time to face the worms. I whipped the lid off, dumped in my vege peelings without looking and re-lidded as fast as I could. Whew, no eye contact made and no worm contact either. Simple.
The next day when I put in my used teabags and eggshells I was brave enough to peek. Nothing. I saw nothing except the day before's vege remnants, still sitting there.
The next day I put in coffee grounds. By the next morning the coffee grounds remained untouched and despite many peerings-in I still hadn't caught a glimpse of a wormy occupant.
I tried being more sneaky with my peering, peeling the lid off slowly and carefully but not a worm did I see. I tried whipping it off fast, still nothing.
Having an idea, I went into the paddock with a trowel and brought back a blob of horse manure. And I bunged it in with my worms.
The next morning all that was left was half-a-blob. I topped it up with a second blob and I swear I could see a worm-face peering out at me. Or it could have been a tail, hard to tell.
Subsequently I have discovered my worms like horse manure best, sheep manure not-so-much and goat manure least of all. They like cooked pumpkin, and prefer their teabags ripped open, thank you. Spinach is OK, cabbage is all right and coffee grounds are acceptable.
And the best bit - now they've had baby worms! So cute.
Such a shame I have to put them outside in the spring.