Seed Catalogue

I have a few new books to read, just fiction (and pretty much run-of-the-mill fiction at that). Some I picked up at second hand stores and some I received as Christmas Gifts. (I do not buy new books yet I am thrilled when someone gives me one as a gift.) There's one by John Grisham, a collection of short stories, that I can't wait to delve into. So there's a small pile of books, 4 or 5, glaring at me to get it together and start reading them. When I think about it, books really don't have the 'glaring' thing going for them, they are described better as "waiting patiently" or even "sadly discarded". But I guess after a while they lose all patience and just glare.

But as much as I'd like to get to reading them, there is one volume that I will get to first. It is a thin, limp thing, cheaply made as possible and distributed as fast and as carelessly as possible. None-the-less, it is the one I will enjoy the most because not only will it spark my imagination and take me to great places; it will get me planning for the next SPRING! My first seed catalogue has arrived. WHEEEEE!

After the Christmas rush dissipates leaving great memories (and teeny, weeny little pine needles lurking in the most unlikely places) the inevitable dullness follows. Then the catalogue arrives in the mail, it's cover a-bloom with colour and hope. It's time to think of SPRING!, which means it must be coming. I mean, I know SPRING! is not just around the corner by any stretch of the imagination but the seed catalogue tells me SPRING! is in my future. (unless, of course, I'm not in SPRINGS!' future but that is beyond a mere catalogue's clairvoyant abilities).

I love seed catalogues. I'll brew a cup of apple cinnamon tea and sit on the couch looking, exploring and planning. I'll decide if I want to try celery from seed and which kind. I'll look for new herbs to try and see if I can add a new type to an old tried-and-true standby. I'll look at the gimmicks and accessories and see if anything there looks like it could be half-way useful. I'll even make a list of ideas, thoughts and plans for the SPRING! Then I'll put the catalogue away and not buy a thing. But no matter, the catalogue has done its job, it has produced something no amount of money could buy; a vacation from the cold, the snow, the dull. And that's all I need to get revved up again. Just don't tell the seed companies, they might stop sending me their catalogues, or ~gasp~ try to find a way to charge for their dream inspirations. I can see it now, "This catalogue will not open unless you pay X amount of dollars as an Inspiration Tax, just add it to the gst, hst, pst and any other st we can think of, an oh, by the way, have a nice day."