The Haxtun-Fleming Herald - What can we reason but from what we know? -Alexander Pope

Hay there my friends. What are you doing? Actually, that is a trick question. Notice my misspelling of Hey? That was not a mistake, I meant to refer to the mow it down, bale it up and store it away for winter livestock feeding type of hay. The rest of the trick question is that it is really not a question. I know this is getting a bit confusing so allow me to explain. Most of my friends are folks who are ranchers or farmers. Because of that, I know exactly what they are doing. They, like me, are busy putting up hay.

For those of you who buy your animal feed one bale at a time at the feed store, or simply don’t need any at all because “hay burners” are not on your responsibility list, “hay season” is not really a big thing. For the rest of us, according to one expert on the subject, Sue, who has had to adjust her life around hay season for decades, all else in life must be put on the back burner when haying time rolls around.

I suppose she is correct about that, especially regarding my shifting priorities every June, the time our hay fields yell for attention.

An old father’s day card has laid on my desk for years as a constant reminder of my dedication to the event.

Inside she wrote, “You aren’t my father but … Happy Father’s Day to my hay cutting hubby.” As further testimony to my paranoid dedication, she then added, just to make me feel guilty, “Together with son David.” A picture on the card front was indisputable evidence of the power this project has over me and anyone I can lure into it, is of me and son David, he driving a tractor raking hay as I followed in another tractor and hay baler. In my defense, all around us, other neighbors, fathers, sons, even a few daughters and occasional wife, were out putting up hay, too.

In a weak moment Sue will find herself describing to our son how our “crew” before he came along was she and I. Unable to afford much labor saving equipment she drove the old tractor while I walked along side throwing bales onto the ancient trailer it pulled. An observation, “Those were the good old days," might even slip into a sentence here and there.

I must admit that I love the excitement of haying. I wake up early, leave the house at daylight to get equipment checked over, greased and ready to roll. I miss most of my meals since when hay needs baled, that takes priority over all else. Rarely get back in to the house before dark.

Actually, Sue seems to like that part of haying best of all.

We are about done with an event I have enjoyed since I was probably eight years old. It has been a great year. Machinery held together, with a few exceptions, like David’s tractor deciding to catch fire after an oil line ruptured and strayed the battery, igniting a big ball of flames, just minor things you understand. On the plus side, early rains resulted in the most outstanding hay crop I can ever remember. It was a good season. I’m already looking forward to next season. Kinda think Sue might be, too! David? He's still getting over this year’s excitement.