“I don’t know about all this, Honey,” Dewey said. “It sounds pretty complicated. The way it is now, I go shovel manure into my pickup, drive to someone’s garden, and … safely … use the dump bed of the truck to put it on the ground. I get paid by the feed lot to clean their corrals and get paid by the gardeners, too.”
Emily reached across the table at the booth in the Mule Barn coffee shop and squeezed his hand. “Dewey, dear, it’s not that difficult. I just thought you could … well, capitalize on these good things a bit more and expand your horizons. You really do have a good thing going here.”
“I have branched out a bit into compost in the worm bins, too,” he said.
“The worm department is working just fine, too, but only on a local level,” Emily Stickles said. Emily is the “county lady” responsible for bringing help to those who don’t realize they need it yet, and making sure no one steps rudely on the county codes.
“Remember the old saying,” she said. “‘Don’t hide your worms under a bushel.’”
“That’s the old saying?”
“If not, it should be. So anyway, why not let me help you with a bit of publicity for your company? I’d love to do it, Hon.”
“Company? I have a shovel and a pickup …”
“Exactly!” she said. “But this is America, Dewey darling. America! Where the sky’s the limit! Where humble beginnings can lead to the summit of corporate success! Just look at what Alexander Graham Bell did with a single telephone!”
“I always wondered who he called once he got that first telephone built,” Dewey pondered.
“That’s the spirit!” Emily said to her sweetheart, “you just have to learn to think bigger than the next shovelful of manure, Dewey. That’s all. Just think what can be done with a shovelful of manure …”
They thought about what could be done with a shovelful of manure while Loretta topped off their coffee.