Cambodia in December meant fewer insects than a traveling entomologist might hope for, so this cicadal interlude was welcome.
Back in my day, of horticulture school and nursery internships, we did this work by hand. At the end of the day, resetting rows of 3 and 5-gallon boxwood, I would crawl out to my car and drive home, then crab crawl into the house and ice my back. One Saturday morning, after a week of moving hundreds of nursery containers and doing hours of hand-weeding in the shadehouse, my back spasmed in the Safeway parking lot and I lied on the asphalt for a spell thinking about my future. Being a grower was not in the cards I surmised, and I turned my sights from production horticulture to production problem solving.
In the meantime, along came Harvest Automation. These little guys are so cool – efficient, precise, and tireless. Their backs don’t spasm, they don’t complain, they space rows like a boss.
A few images from this beautiful summer day in the Pacific Northwest:
Kicking around a vintage store in Eugene Oregon, we stumbled across these tiny pots, watering can, and in the back on the right, fruit pint containers made from wire and wood. Darling containers + utterly impractical = win.
Laboratory glassware would make excellent kitchen and barware. You could measure out extremely precise amounts of cereal or gin or what have you, order replacements as easily as you reorder liquid nitrogen or stirring magnets, and cook things over a Bunsen burner. Cheers to feeling scientific in the kitchen; cooking is, after all, chemistry.
I realized when I saw this sign, I had thought invasive species and noxious weeds were a relatively recent concern – not so. Only one year before the referenced law on this sign, Gorse introduced from Ireland helped burn Bandon, OR to the ground, so people were familiar with the dangers of introduced species.
Inoculate yer cow peas, people.