Like HD Thoreau, Bill Weale had faith in a seed. As a preacher, faith was kind of Grandpa’s thing. He also believed in being open to messages and signs. So it was strangely comforting yesterday, 15 years after his death, to be able to hear his voice again — singing, “In the Garden,” the same day I gave up on my pumpkin seeds. Suzy and the kids gave me a Crosley turntable for my birthday, so I was able to dig Grandpa’s 45rpm record out of my sock drawer and release his Welsh coal-miner voice from the crackly vinyl grooves. I often invoke Grandpa’s memory as I travel and speak…

“Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders.” – Henry David Thoreau Project Pumpkin Patch has so far failed to germinate. I’ve always wanted a field of pumpkins. I mean, really, when you think of it, what could be more wonderful? From a little seed grows a crazy prickly vine that bears big elephant-ear leaves and day-long delicate orange blooms like trumpets. The surrounding ground can be weedy or irregular as long as it’s sunny and well drained. And the…