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Haying when it’s hot

In the words of the abomidubble snowman (Bugs Bunny fans will understand), “Gosh it’s hot.”
After chores we went up in the fields to finally get the potatoes in the ground. I knew it would be warm, but wow. I thought I was going to die. And as if the heat wasn’t enough, biting gnats circled our heads like so many electrons. Even if they weren’t biting, their presence was enough to drive us crazy!
Gary ran the tiller and I picked rocks. One row he planted the taters and I covered them and the next row we switched. Was it ever hot. Did I mention how hot it was?

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Farmers around here started haying Memorial Day, but that first cut was mostly for chopping. Now they are baling. Our primary hay farmer baled some square bales for us. They smell so sweet and fresh.


It always seems that baling is done on the hottest stickiest day you can pick. Since you are dealing with hay you have to wear pants — trust me I know as I tried wearing shorts last year when we baled hay with a neighbor — I still have the scars to prove it.
The thermometer here was 95 and the humidity was 90%. Usually it ain’t the heat it’s the humidity — but I think yesterday both were a huge influence. After I got the bales off the wagon and Gary stacked, I got sick: I was that hot.
We had the hay wagon to contend with too. Those things are meant to go forward, never back. They are very difficult to maneuver, especially in tight spaces like we have. I had an idea that hay wagons should have removable tongues so you can remove the tongue and put it on the other end so you never have to deal with backing up. Big enough hitch pin ought to work, right? ;-)

Posted in Goats, Misc.. Tagged with , .

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