Sunday, June 6, 2010

Haying and Strawberry Kool Aid

Across the Fence #290

Hot and humid weather like we’ve had the past couple day, usually means the hay is ready to cut and take in. Haying and hot, humid weather seem to go hand in hand. Times and methods of haying have changed since I was young, but haying weather never changes. You still have to cut the hay and rake it into windrows, but just about everything else about haying has changed.

I now see self-propelled choppers blowing the hay directly into large trucks or wagons as they travel beside the chopper across the hay field. When the truck is full, another one takes its place and away they go again. A huge hay field that would take several days to bale and haul to the barn, is now finished in a matter of hours.

Another haying method is to bale the hay into very large, round or rectangular bales. It takes a skid steer to pick those bales up and load them onto a wagon. You can’t just physically grab one of those bales and toss it onto the wagon. We’re talking major hernias and serious back problems if you tried that.

What a difference 50 years make. When you consider all the technological advancements during that time period, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. I’m old enough to remember when we still picked up the hay with a hayloader that was hooked behind the hay wagon. The windrowed hay went up the hayloader and was dumped loose onto the wagon. If you’re interested in seeing this method of haying in operation today, drive out to an Amish community and watch how haying was done when I was young. And of course, it’s still done that way among Amish farmers. It’s hard work, but it still works!

When the wagon was full, you unhooked the hayloader and headed for the barn. The wagon was parked under the large, open haymow door and the hayfork was lowered from the track that went into the haymow. The hayfork was pushed into the loose hay by stomping on it to “set” it. Then a horse or tractor on the other end of the rope would pull the hay up into the barn, through a series of pulleys, where it was dumped into the haymow when you pulled on the “trip” rope. I still remember when we used work horses to pull the hay up before we got our first tractor, a John Deere B. It was much easier backing a tractor up.

That loose hay in the haymow was great for jumping into from one of the big crossbeams. We would pretend we were paratroopers jumping out of an airplane, behind enemy German lines, during the Allied invasion of Normandy in World War II. Our playing war games ended when the haymow started filling up and there was no place to jump. The higher up in the haymow you got, the more hot, humid, and steamy it got. I guess we could have pretended we were in the hot, humid, steamy jungles of Vietnam, but we had never heard about that country in those days.

Some time after we moved to the farm where we now live on a corner of the back forty, I became aware of the hay baler. A neighbor, Clifford Gilbertson, had one and eventually Dad hired him to bale our hay. I think he paid ten cents a bale. The bales were dropped on the ground and we had to load them on a wagon. David, being the youngest, drove the tractor while Dad picked up the bales and threw them onto the wagon, where I piled them up, four bales high. We never used gloves and our hands became tough and calloused. You may ask why we didn’t wear gloves. The wear and tear from the twine soon had them ripped and full of holes so you might as well just toughen your hands up. It was cheaper than buying new gloves all the time.

Haying was hard work, but there was a pride in doing what was considered “man’s work.” Remember, we were still in grade school at the time. The best part of haying was climbing down out of the hot haymow, sweaty and covered with chaff, and heading for the windmill, where we’d get a drink of cold water pumped direct from the well into a Mason jar. Water never tasted as good as it did then. I’d even pour some water over my head to wash off the chaff and cool down. The cold water would take your breath away.

Another great part about haying was stopping for coffee mid-morning and afternoon. At that age I didn’t drink coffee, but we always had Kool Aid in a big frosted pitcher. Strawberry and grape were my favorites. Ma also had sandwiches, cookies, and cake. We ate more for coffee than I now eat for a regular meal, and we never gained weight because of all the exercise.

Eventually Dad bought a baler and we loaded bales directly onto the wagon, but we still had to pile them up. The hayfork gave way to an elevator. Now they chop hay into trucks and make huge, round bales. Times and methods keep changing. Water direct from the windmill is gone, but I hope everyone still gets to enjoy a drink of ice-cold Strawberry Kool Aid!

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