Yes, no more do you have to zip on down to the gas pump to fuel up your tiller with refined tar sand goo. No more do you have to sit in the back of your garage and tinker and fiddle and eventually come up with a metal turtle that mows your grass and scares your cat out of its wits. Instead, you can plant some carrots, or some alfalfa, sit on the deck with a cold drink tinkling with ice, and let the tiller come to you. And give the cat something fun to do, too, not to mention keeping the hawks fed so they don’t eat your dearest, most loving puss. These environmentally friendly rototillers can’t be found in any store, though. They will find you. No need to build infrastructure for them, either. They will build their own.
Gopher Freeway Interchange
Alfalfa Field, Okanagan Landing
I know it’s a little weird, but, you know, if the hay is harvested, trucked away, forked out to cattle, who are then trucked away, slaughtered, and trucked back to you wrapped up in plastic wrap and foam trays, wouldn’t it, like be more efficient to just eat the rototillers? I mean, after they did their work, of course?
Freshly Rototilled Land
For ten thousand years, the grasslands have been tilled by this method.
It is on such soil that the flowering and tuberous plants of the grasslands have seeded themselves. Where a person flush with common sense and a dose of wonder might think there’d be a kind of concrete made out of clay and rocks packed tight by two heavy vertical miles of ice, there’s loose, friable soil. And it’s not because of earthworms, no no. Those wriggly, 5-hearted pink earth drinkers are European invaders, and are only found where Europeans have placed them, on purpose or just because they fell off the back of the plow or other piece of what-have-you. As for the squeamishness… Farley Mowatt went to the Arctic a couple generations ago to study wolves, and wound up eating the mice the wolves were eating, because everyone else was complaining that they were eating caribou, and he wanted to know if they were onto a better thing. Apparently, they were. Mowatt even wrote down some recipes, because the little guys tasted so good. But, hey, even if such meat isn’t culturally acceptable, because, well, eeeyew, we could still till, till, till, without a care or gas can or freaking tar pit in the world, and still give the hawks something to do.
Two of the Neighbourhood’s Four-Member Youth Gang on the Lookout for Cats
Let’s give them gophers instead. That’ll mean more carrots for us.