Field Day

I think it was the relatively early bedtime or maybe the excitement of going to the field, something different than the drudgery of the home office life. My alarm was set for quarter past six but it never stood a chance. I was up a few minutes ahead of the six bell chimes and got my day started. Having not used an alarm in months made me forget how they work, unless you turn them off, they gonna go. The noise was so loud and obnoxious to my now unattuned ears. That would have woken me up, glad to know it’s there when I need it. I did have time to sit and enjoy the view as it happened. I noticed an alarming number of grackles lined up along the back fence. I wonder what they’re up? Hopefully migrating south so I never see them again, dirty sky pirates.

I hustled up and got my usual breakfast prepared and chugged it. I regret that, it seemed to elevate my core temperatue a couple of degrees somehow. I should have just sat and enjoyed the birds a bit longer before tying into this molten hot delights. Nonetheless, I had to set about preparing for the day. I packed myself a lunch, carefully rolling up a wrap with ham, sliced cheese, and mustard. I also tossed in three cookies in a separate container and two granola bars. I used an ice cold Dr Pepper as the ice pack. First lunch in a long time on the road, it wasn’t fancy or healthy but I felt good about it.

Around ten last night I got a text asking me to pick up some tents and tables from my old research farm in case the elements were overwhelming. The forecast said that it would be very hot and humid. There was also a chance of rain later in the afternoon so we felt we should be prepared. My colleague BDP was running the show but seemed to have forgotten about some of the finer points of the task at hand. The task was of course digging corn roots to evaluate insect damage after washing them. He’d focused on the washing aspect with some hoses he provided and the tents and tables but he’d completely neglected the digging side of the equation. He had no shovels, tubs, bags, tags, etc. to properly group and label the dug roots. Luckily I brought snagged a shovel from the farm and some cutters to trim the plants down. He’d invited some academics to join us and they brought most of the tags and whatnot to keep the process organized. It was raining when we arrived but there was a work crew there to install amenities to a small cabin close by. They essentially created an adult sandbox and played with their toys the whole time.

What we were doing wasn’t playing and never would be considered as such. The rain petered out just as we were getting going. Our task was to dig eighteen roots per strip, targeting six at three locations spread across the six rows and the five hundred feet. We all agreed upon a pattern and started into it. We were putting three roots and a tag into old, used fertilizer bags and the summer help would whish them up to the washing area for cleaning and rating. A decent system, especially since we started with three pairs doing the digging. It should have been a nice straight forward task. For some reason the summer kids started putting two roots in a bag and then couldn’t figure out how the tags should work so instead of using six of them for a plot they changed to using one. I don’t understand their logic at all. I told them what the rest of us were doing and they didn’t catch on. Eighteen roots, six tags, six bags, three roots and one tag per bag. Felt easy to figure out, let me know what you thought in the comments.

When the sun came back out things got wild. The temperature in the corn jumped dramatically and so did the effect of the humity. It wasn’t long before I was feeling the strain. With eighteen plots and three teams digging it doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to surmise that each would be on the hook for six plots worth of digging. After four I needed a water break. I trudged out and to the truck. I was wearing shorts and a polo but I had my protective armbands on to make sure I didn’t get sliced up by corn leaves. Brack was my partner in crime and he and I took a good fifteen minutes to hydrate and cool down. In that time BDP had left to go get some pizza for lunch. That meant we essentially lost a digging pair, which means we all have to do more. That was not the realization I wanted as I was trying to recover from the initial burst of effort. We went back in and finished two more plots and then had some more water. We had switched from me digging the first three to him digging the next three and using his personal shovel. The kids did some shuffling of roles and ended up doing the extra plot. We finished the digging portion just ahead of lunch. I went to the truck to remove my arm sleeves and notices my arms were very yellow with pollen. It doesn’t show as well in the photo but it was insane. I used some Lysol wipes to clean the pollen off my arms, neck and face before going up the hill to lunch.

The pizza was very average to weak. I had three slices and some iced tea. Being out of the corn and feeling some air movement was more nourishing to me than the pizza. After discussing initial results we got the crew up and running on this part of the process. Keeping thing organized through the washing and rating of the insect damage. Once a system was in place, some of us slipped away to go to a plot around the corner to observe some significant damage from corn rootworm.

I was on a call from before we left until we were about ready to return, then I was on the phone again for a bit longer while Brack got a lesson on rating roots. There was a bit of a photo shoot too. My calls were of the confidential nature so I had to take them away from the crowd. I did manage to get out and see the other plot and damage was as promised, extreme and unprecendented. They flew their fancy drone and took some video and got some pictures.

Eventually it was time to load up some roots for future use and head back to the research farm to return what we’d borrowed. I was surprised to find the place locked up and abandoned at only half four. I guess they decided they didn’t want to work as long as I would have. We put everything back, unloaded the plunder, took a minor tax and moved on. By the time I actually got home it was half five and I was beyond beat. I stumbled into the house and saw I’d won FitBit, I hit all my targets. I still had my lunch and hoped it wasn’t spoiled. I warmed the wraps in the microwave for forty seconds and ate them, that was an awesome move. The cheese was partially melted and the ham warmed. I’ll try that again. I drank water by the liter and took what I realized was my first pee since leaving the house at half seven. That can’t be good for you. I was fed and watered but was sore all over, particularly my feet. I found my bed. I was listening to a podcast and passed out for an hour before preparing and properly seeking sleep. That day wiped me out. I haven’t done a spectacular job relating the heat, my feelings and thoughts, and the task overall but that’s all I can provide for now. It was nice to get out there and do something. I wonder how ofter I used to do that in my old role. I know I was more active but I suspect a day like today would have left me in a similar condition. I got to sleep somewhere around nine I think. Good times.