The Spring Dreamer's Guide to Seed and Story Sowing

by G. E. Shuman

     I was at Walmart the other day. You probably were too, just because almost everyone was probably at Walmart the other day. Everyone seems to wind up there eventually, and often it is fairly often.

    Anyway, I was at Walmart the other day, and spent a few minutes daydreaming, or, more accurately, spring-dreaming, in the seasonal area of the store. You know, that's the part of the store that changes with the seasons, hence, the name. (No one uses the word 'hence' anymore. I'm not sure why.) Truthfully, it was with great joy that I was suddenly in a place that was totally dedicated, if only 'seasonally,' to spring and summer! Seed trays, potting soil, spades, hoes and hoses were everywhere, and I felt like a kid in a candy store. As you may know from previous columns, I don't have much room for a garden where we live, but do plant a few things in pots, on and around our front porch each year. I love what small successes I have had in making vegetable and flower plants grow. (I usually force the issue with an abundance

of Miracle Gro, and still, it's a miracle if my plants grow very well.) In any case, there I was, in early January, right in the middle of the spring planting and summer growing seasons, and I wasn't in Florida, and I wasn't alone. Several strange people, (I mean, several strangers... I couldn't tell if they were strange people or not, but they might have been.) were right there with me, taking in the scents of the soil, reading the seed tray labels, and enjoying all of those bountiful veggie pictures that were beautifully displayed on row after row of seed packets. Okay, so they probably were strange people. Some of my fellow spring-dreamers were even buying the seed packs, by the handful. I wasn't sure why, as there seemed to be many thousands of the packets, and it's still a bit early to start any plants in your house. Then again, I was tempted to buy some myself, although I would likely have decorated my home with them, taping those colorful reminders of spring and summer all over the place.

     It should have come as no surprise to me that people were buying seeds in January. Years ago, in my former life as a retail manager, the seasonal offerings of spring once came into the stores sometime before Christmas. A few of us diligent and dedicated merchandisers put a seed display or two out with the December decorations that year, and sold hundreds of packs of future-flowers and vegetables as stocking-stuffers. It seems that even back then some people liked to have a reminder of spring before the worst (or best) of winter was upon us.

     You know, it has recently dawned on me that growing things is similar to writing, in several ways. Firstly, both activities are inexpensive and rewarding things to do. Seeds are pretty cheap, and dirt is dirt cheap; so is a pencil and a pad of paper. Also, planting those seeds is very similar to planting the 'seeds' of an idea. The Bible says that we will reap what we sow, and that is true of both seed-sowing, and of planting a thought on paper, to grow a piece of writing. Every year, at this time of year, I begin planning my small amount of planting, and writing these columns about the process. I will eventually begin gathering the physical seeds and soils and starter-trays to make those small, struggling words about plants, reality. If you are someone like me, who is feeling a bit winter-weary, you should consider doing some planning, and, later on, some planting. If you're a writer, I don't have to tell you that you have to write... you already know that. So, if you feel the need to write in winter, you might write about your future 'sowing.' If you are a gardener, or a plant-potter like me, (That is different from a pot-planter.) writing down your thoughts about those wonderful future seedlings will make the green of spring and summer seem all the closer.  

Pellet Power

By G. E. Shuman

If you enter our home anytime between the end of October and whatever month winter feels like releasing it's cold grip on us, here in Vermont, you will hear a faint but unmistakable sound. That is, it will forever be unmistakable after you no longer mistake the sound for something else. At first, the sound seems to have the strange echo-y tone of muted cow bells, heard between muted cow bellows out in some distant field. Then the sound may make you think of a tiny, tinny version of the ghost of Joseph Marley, rhythmically, (Every sixteen seconds, to be precise.) shaking and dragged his little bondage chains across our basement floor. Yes, the only thing you will know for certain is that the slightly haunting sound emanates up, to softly greet you, from the cellar below.

If you haven't yet guessed, or noticed the title of this article, what you would be hearing upon entering our house at this tormenting, tundra-like time of year, is the soft pitter-patter (Not of little feet. Heaven forbid, and hold the suicide note.) but of little wood pellets that have been augured up from the hopper beside our furnace, as they fall, carefree and unknowing, to their sure demise in the small blast chamber attached to our boiler. How sad for them, but how good for us. At least I am reasonably sure they are good for us.

Our pellet burner was installed a year ago, and I do not regret the decision to buy it. In today's economy it is cheaper to heat a home with any type of wood than with oil, but decidedly more work, also. In fact, I can't think of any work involved with heating with oil, except for earning the money to pay for it. There is definitely work involved in pellet-burning, at least there is at our house. You see, pellets are heavy. As a red-blooded, (if slightly aging) American man, I will never admit that they are TOO heavy... but they are kinda' heavy. Our house is big, and it takes a lot of whatever type of fuel you use, to heat it. We burned eleven tons of pellets last year, which doesn't seem like a big deal if you say it quickly enough. But, what is a ton? In pellet talk it is not two thousand pounds, but just fifty forty-pound bags of the things, which, I guess, is no big deal. I guess, also, that I didn't quite think through the idea that I would have to multiply those fifty bags by eleven, which is pretty much five hundred and fifty of those nifty forty-pounders, to be unpalet-ed, wheelbarrow-ed to the closest cellar window, and stacked on that cellar floor. If I were trying to sell wood pellets, I might think that two hundred seventy five eighty-pound bags of the things might sound better to customers. Better still, how about being able to tell a home owner that they would ONLY burn about one hundred thirty eight, one hundred sixty pounders all winter? Of course, those bags would be very heavy, but would require fewer wheelbarrow trips. Of course, also, you might get a few friendly visits from your local police, after your neighbors notice you stuffing 'filled' body bag-sized sacks through your cellar window. I guess those forty-pound bags are about right after all.                     

                                                                           

The bright side of all of this is that, at least for us, pellet burning really is working out to be more economical than oil burning. I also get lots of quality time with my boiler as I fill the pellets and clean out the ashes several times a week. I am in the process of convincing myself that it is worth all the work, and I do feel good about burning New England-made wood pellets in my furnace, instead of black gold from Saudi Arabia or somewhere. I'm just waiting for someone to find a way to liquefy the pellets. Then they could begin straining my fuel tank instead of my back.