Hay

In the forty years since I began farm work at the age of thirteen there has been very little change in haying.  I prefer the old fashioned small bales as I do not need equipment to handle them as you do with the round bales or large square bales.  So, small bales of hay still weigh about forty-five pounds.  The strings still cut your hands, and you callous up even with gloves.  And the next day you are reminded of the muscles you used for that workout.

What has changed is my ability.  I am in the midst of physiotherapy for tennis elbow and the Physiotherapist said that haying was probably the worst thing I could do.  But with haying, you do it when it's ready and it's usually very weather dependent.  I have to pace myself and be sure to use correct posture for all aspects of the drill.  And I tried to reduce the strain on the sore arm.

The dairy farmer from whom I purchase hay sent me an email the day he cut the hay.  We were very fortunate that there was no rain and it dried and was baled on day three.  After putting 6 wagon loads into his own barn, he came here at about 5:30 p.m. with 3 wagon loads for us.  Hubby was on hand and I had elicited the help of the neighbour's fifteen year old granddaughter. We were just over an hour. 

I had cleared out the overhang at the north side of the barn, removing the cut wood and stacking it beside the house for winter.  And the junk got moved, including various rolls of fencing, a table saw that probably doesn't work, etc.  We stacked the hay to the ceiling, removing the light bulbs when we got that high.  Many thanks to the dairy farmer for stacking it up so high and sharing his skills with us.  He had a brew on the back stoop before heading home just after seven.  He said his young kids were waiting for his arrival to hose him down at the back door.  It had been a hot day.

The next day I hung tarps along the opening and tucked them in behind a length of snow fence I had secured along the opening.  No nibbling allowed, the llamas being the worst culprits thus far.  The hay should remain dry with only a minor amount of loss due to weather.  I don't expect the tarps to last more than a season.   This location receives the brunt of the weather.

The sheep seem to have developed a photosensitivity or sun-scald.  Not all of them, mind you, just a few.  I think there are two whose nose is crusty and the skin is peeling off.  Several have runny eyes, some of it crusty.  It is the fair or white sheep, not the dark skinned sheep that are affected.  My research indicates it's likely from eating weeds, poisonous ones at that, so much of what is in the Middle Field out back.  I stopped taking them out there and put them in the Front Field again.  I supervise them very closely.  The level of toxic weeds is very low here.  They are healing as are my Wild Parsnip burns.

We have arranged for someone to come and cut the Middle Field.  Forty years ago we referred to it as mowing, but the equipment is apparently called a bush hog, which I had never heard of.  At any rate, the fellow came right away to assess the job and said he could come the next day.  He has to get his fellow protective coveralls due to the toxic Wild Parsnip.  My research indicates this is the worst time to cut Wild Parsnip, when it is in full flower, but it must be done.  We need to see the animals - both ours and their predators.

I'm not getting much knitting done out on pasture.  I can't knit and carry a rifle at the same time.  However hubby has ordered me a holster.  Even though the sheep are closer to the house in the Front Field again, I go out with them for most of the first hour in the morning.  The next hour I spend working around the barn, constantly checking the sheep, with my rifle in an accessible location.

We are looking forward to a slew of visitors this weekend.  Some are staying overnight while others are coming for a shorter visit.  The weather is lovely, the heat wave has broken and the air fresh.  The sun is shining with a few wisps of white fluff up there. It promises to be very nice indeed.