I never realized I wasn’t the only oddball who had so little connection with other computer people that they didn’t know anyone to let them into lobste.rs.
I grew up on a farm where the property has since been divided up and houses built. I remember how my parents were about gasoline for washing paint brushes and old motor oil for painting fences and burning plastics and electronics in the burn barrel. Who knows what happened to pesticide containers. There was a stack of lead pipes I played with occasionally. No idea what pipes were in the house, but it was old, so.
And I totally wonder whether people are growing food there, soaking all of that up.