The garden catalogs start coming when the snow is too deep to even find dirt. But we don't care.
This is a catalog time of year, a time for making plans and figuring out how to do something even better than we did last year.
There in the fishing catalog is that new fly-tying vise. I know I'll be able to tie flies faster and better with that, which will give me more time to cruise up and down Lewis Creek with the fly rod. Well - at least that's the plan.
And the housewares catalog has all kinds of things in it to help us peel potatoes, boil things, slice things, and clean things. A few well-spent dollars on their 800 phone line and before you know it, our lives will be easier and our food tastier.
With the truck catalogs, we can get a little coffee maker that plugs right in to the cigarette lighter. Or we can get a little oven that plugs right in to the cigarette lighter, or a fan that plugs right in to the cigarette lighter. Let's hope the car makers continue to make cigarette lighters even after cigarettes themselves disappear. We'd miss out on a lot of fun without that plug-in.
The mule needs his catalog, too. I'll do the reading for him, and the ordering. But I think he'd appreciate one of those nice white fleece cinches. They seem so soft on an old mule's belly. And a matching saddle pad would be good, too. He's too old to rope on any more, but a guy can still appreciate comfort in semi-retirement.
The land catalogs are the most fun. In these, there are always lakes with wooded margins, begging for a little cabin. A small place where a guy can hole up and think literary thoughts and type quietly. Well, it's a thought, anyway. And that's what catalogs do, stimulate our thinking.
Spring catalogs are the novels of optimistic lives.
Brought to you by "Ol' Max Evans, the First Thousand Years." At www.unmpress.com.