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April 15th 2010    Tim Candler

    Traumatic morning spent thinning seedlings.  Yet in town the other day while hunting for hydraulic lines, I saw a little plastic seed dispenser upon which there was a dial that guaranteed a perfect broadcast of all those seeds almost too small to see.   Had it not been attached to cardboard backing with that brittle and often dangerous clear packaging, I might have invested seven dollars and ninety nine cents.

     As well, the mind is insufficiently prepared for adequate appraisal of seed dispensing devices while in a parts department.   It is jostling with other concepts, and usually for me, there is within it that struggle with appearance, because it is always necessary to remember ones telephone number or zip code, otherwise non-cash financial transactions reach an impasse.

    The packaging included a line drawing of a bee and a series of sentences that ended with exclamation marks.  The bee had a blissful expression and was probably the size of a small thumb, which would have put it in the family of Bumble Borer.   With my walking around glasses I could see the device quite well, and its dial made good sense to me.

     Always a sadness to reduce the ranks of the gallant so that space might be made for the fortunate.  And it might be worth returning to the parts department. 

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