First a Happy Birthday shout out to my son, Michael. Where have the years gone? Hope you have a wonderful day.
Slim Randles is today’s Wednesday’s Guest, and he has a story about good ol’ Dewey. It’s been a while since we heard about how the worm business is going, but we can join the guys at the Mule Barn Truck Stop and get caught up. Everyone is probably drinking coffee – that’s what the guys like – so we can have a cup, too. Enjoy….
Dewey Decker showed his new business cards to the other guys at the Mule Barn Truck Stop’s philosophy counter, and each member of the world dilemma think tank got to keep one.
Steve, our owlish-appearing cowboy, scratched his head as he studied the card. “Okay, Dewey, I’ll bite … what’s a verm-a- ….?”
“Vermiculturist, Steve,” Dewey said, proudly. “It means I raise worms.”
Dewey, the beloved accident-prone member of the think tank, began his new career with just a shovel and his pickup, spreading manure in people’s yards. Now, thanks in great part to the genius of his girlfriend, Emily Stickles, (she of the magnificent cheekbones) he was earning a decent living. Back when they fell (literally … he tripped) in love, she took this crash-and-burn disaster and molded him into a multi-dimensional businessman, while still keeping him away from sharp objects or things that crush.
Dewey has branched out now into compost, worms (excuse me … vermiculture) and fertilizer tea. The tea goes on the lawn, not in the tea cups.
“Dewey,” said Doc, “this vermiculture stuff now … how much work is it, really?”
“That’s the good part about it, Doc. You see, I don’t have to do anything at all, really, except keep them in … product, you know. They reproduce without any outside help, and turn manure into the best compost in the world. Then you can sell them to other people to work their compost piles, or to fishermen.”
“Well, Dewey,” said Herb, “it looks to me like simply being a vermiculturist doesn’t really cover the subject. Wouldn’t those red wigglers also make you a compostocologist?”
“Hadn’t really thought about …” Dewey said.
“And when it comes to selling them to fishermen,” Doc said, “wouldn’t you be an ichthymasticatiousdietician?”
“I … I …”
“Yes, Dewey?”
“I refuse to be anything I can’t spell.”
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Gift idea: signed copy of “Complete Cowboy Bucket List” by Slim Randles.
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The Home Country radio show with Slim Randles will be coming soon to a radio station near you! New, from Syndication Networks.
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Slim Randles writes a nationally syndicated column, “Home Country” that is featured in 370 newspapers across the country. He is also the author of a number of books including Saddle Up: A Cowboy Guide to Writing. That title, and others, are published by LPD Press. If you enjoy his columns here, you might want to check out the book Home Country. It has some of the best of his offerings through the years. |
Enjoyed this post a lot because I actually tried vermiculture. It was pretty interesting, and the product (a euphemism for worm poop) worked well as fertilizer for my garden. If I wanted to try it again, though, I’d buy more professional equipment. It’s hard work when you’re bending over a plastic bin and don’t have a sifter underneath to gather the finished “product.”
I got a giggle from Dewey’s unwillingness to be labeled with titles he can’t spell (or pronounce, I imagine). It would be so much easier to call oneself a worm farmer.
Yes it would, Patricia. My daughter tried this, too, but her set up was in the laundry room. All of a sudden they had an influx of flies and realized the worm poop had to go outside. LOL