|Young Buchholz in the 1980s|
Not just engaged in horticulture, but actually inventing it. That thought applies to certain innovative, intelligent and experienced plants(people), and I consider myself fortunate to have known many. All the better if they're somewhat humble and don't preach about how great they are, but I can even tolerate some amount of boasting if the idea, method or plant factoid has merit. Upon the summation of my career – no, not yet – I can imagine another nurseryman, a detractor, conclude that “Old Buchholz basically copied others and just put his own spin on it.” And I would agree with that sentiment: I haven't invented anything; I haven't honed horticulture to a higher level either. Sure, you can learn a few things from me, but remember I've already copied from someone before. Certainly, though, I have set a human record for how much one can worry and still remain alive.
So, where am I going with this blog? I guess nowhere. You can consider it an unnecessary blogette. Even though we're sizzling in the mid-90s I'll go out and cut maple scions this evening – that's what I feel like doing. Keep pushing the plants through the pipeline. The best part is that the bagsful of maple sticks are set on the ping-pong table in the garage, while I go inside and collapse in my chair with a well-deserved cold beer. Then later at night this old farmer's two daughters prepare the scions. They do a perfect job and keep the labels straight, and none of you can begin to keep up with them. Just think: every maple you buy from Buchholz Nursery these days has been blessed by the hands of a beautiful woman. Maybe that's why I am still in business.