Meanderings for a Country Mouse

     We dodged a bullet this weekend and the storm was not as bad as it could have been. The best part is this upcoming week promises a stretch of light-as-a-feather weather. The air is crisp, cool, with a hot sun that reminds me of trying to make hay decades ago in the fickle weather of late May and early June.
   
     We spent many mornings waiting for the dew to dry enough to tedd what we cut the day before. Then it was a roll of the dice to see if it dried enough to rake. I loved those days...tedding, fluffing cut grass so it dried underneath... an excuse to get outdoors in the first part of the day.

     The tricky part was timing raking and baling. Raking picked up the hay so it could catch the breeze and rolled it in neat rows from one side of the meadow to the other. Nature could sabotage your efforts at this point. In the late 70's some farmers sprayed their bales with nitrogen to dampen spontaneous combustion. This was an added expense that also increased protein content, enhancing roughage for cows. However, it was thought that the additional nitrogen might be too much for equine digestion. So we made hay the old fashioned way, by waiting on the weather to assure the correct moisture for our bales. The problem was that the nutrient value would evaporate with plant juices. If too wet, there was a fear of fermentation and a very real threat that spontaneous combustion inside the bales could burn down the barn.

     Haymaking led to some rather bizarre anecdotes. There was a local phenomenon that spread rapidly back in those days without cell phones. One farmer would chew on his pipe and tell another that "S" was "making hay down by the river" and a spontaneous row of pickups would mosey down the river road....to watch "S" making hay. Black braids and lots of turquoise jewelry added to the exotica of the Arabian horse breeder getting a suntan...while covering bottom land with her gray ford tractor...topless.

     I remember using our road tractor and lowboy in the fields to pick up the hay bales. We mowed several acres under the power line right of way which was straight enough to get a big rig in. That seems like a lot of work but in the long run made a lot of sense, if you thought out of the box. We trudged after that trailer in the hot sun, tossing 40 pound bales up to the trailer. Then the guys stacking lifted them up to the desired height. Every trip was a mathematical challenge. Stacking meant they would and could topple. So it was theorized that alternating direction would lock the load. Then posts inserted in the sides of the rig gave additional purchase to tie down. In hindsight, it was fairly efficient, even if unorthodox.

     There was a fair amount of controversy about the right haymaker mix for field hands. Most concoctions included molasses or maple syrup for sugar, home-made vinegar or lemon juice to cut it, and lots of strong tea.  Sweat took salt and electrolytes out of the body so the contents of these jugs were serious business. There is a version hitting grocery stores now by Turkey Hill Ice Cream that harks back to these fortifying drinks for field workers.

    Unloading hay was the other half of a dusty and dirty job. We split people into those outside and those inside the barn. There was no way around the physical effort to get hay from field to the barn. The hay elevator transported bales up to the loft (no more than two bales on the lift at a time). Then someone hauled each one off at the top of the barn, tossed it laterally to the left or the right, where inside workers dragged each bale to its assigned place. There were more workers at the top of the piles inside, with dust building up in spite of the handkerchiefs over your face a-la-Jesse James, and part of their job was to see that the temperature did not soar into dangerous ranges. There were round vents with fans at each end of the hay loft. The heat building inside vented outside. For at least three days after the hay making, barn checks with a hand between bales, were essential. If anyone could feel heat between bales he would tear back to the house and we would all go out to monitor. Every year there were barn fires so we did not want to have an incident. Moving loads around kept mold down and guaranteed that the hay could be enjoyed down to the last sprig.

     The only way hay making seems to have improved is that now huge round bales are rolled up and covered for months. I guess this means that the heating from curing hay dissipates in the open air instead of building up in a barn loft.  But moving the buggers is a real problem. We used to try for two cuttings off the same field so those round bales would be a hassle. There is an ailment called "farmer's lung" which comes from inhaling the dust and mold spores in those hay making days. Later efforts to mechanize the production of fodder for equines might decrease the incidence of crippled breathing. Looking at the situation today, it does not seem that a great deal has changed. Horse enthusiasts import hay bales from out of state so our local fields now grow McMansions. Out of state sources seem to be still baling along with old methods. Perhaps these out of state farmers use paid labor instead of family members but the job seems basically the same. Privately, this country mouse thinks our hay was vastly superior to the dry stuff trailered in from Maine....

Seniors still count.