Ah, the family farm. It would be nothing without a gas tank for the machinery, and a pile of 1/2 ton bins to take the apples away.

None of this stuff with horses and bushel baskets woven out of canes, and the sweet smell of cider, pshaw, this is the Okanagan, folks, come on, we have improvised ourselves out of all that long ago. Take a look:

Not exactly meeting safety codes, but, come on, no one smokes anymore, do they?