We have a big field and two cows and three sheep. We're not real farmers, but nonetheless the animals have to eat real hay in the winter. This year we were in Barcelona until the end of July, so the field was sadly neglected. We were able to convince our kind neighbor to come hay it for us Tuesday. I love watching how the baler shoots the hay into the cart:
Once it's all in bales, the job of loading it into the barn falls to us. Here is the hay cart, already half emptied.
It's my job to climb up there and drag the hay bales to that lovely orange device, the hay ladder, then flick the switch and watch the bales of hay climb up to the barn.
The hay ladder belongs neither to the kind neighbor who hayed our field nor to us, but rather to a third farmer in town who thankfully loans it to us each time we have to get hay up in the barn. I'm not sure what we'd do without it.
And then dh stacks it all in the barn:
Now we can rest easy for the winter. (And I really can get back to #eprdctn.)
I once (once only!) made the mistake of stacking bales in a hot barn wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Never again! My legs and forearms were red and prickly for a week afterwards. ;-)
ReplyDeleteHow trippy is that.... watching the Hay Baler toss the made bale onto the Hay Truck...
ReplyDeleteLove it Liz...
I had my first experience watching Hay Bales being made in November 2010, but they were simply dropped out onto the ground for the Son to walk along and physically toss onto the back of an open truck bed, to then stack and tie down for carting away.
Gives Hay Bales a whole new dimension now when I see them, and you have just added to the magic... well, physical innovation is the reality... but there certainly is a magical charm to it all.
It's such moments one realises the beauty, efficiency, and benefits technology is really all about.
Happy Winter Munching to your Cows and Sheep, they are lucky having someone who cares
Good wishes from Magda in Australia
My summer job in 1962 was largely baling hay and there were no loaders back then except for my back. Being a macho teenager, I of course, did it shirtless and prickled for most of the summer.
ReplyDeleteNot a fond memory, but a strong one.