Can you believe it's time to cut hay again? It seems so early. This is one thing I had to adjust to when Popa and I started putting up our own hay; we cut early and on through summer. When I was a child, Daddy and my uncle only baled hay one time: late summer. All acres that could be planted for crops were not used for hay; only the meadows in low-lying areas, where the ground was too wet for spring planting, were cut for hay. The grass was not as tender as spring grass and there weren't many bales; but oh the work it took to get those bales! Also, Daddy didn't have very many animals to feed in the winter.
So, on this first day of hay season, things started off with a phone call before our breakfast had a chance to reach its destination. A cow was out! Popa went to try to get her back in our pasture, and while he was wading through tall grass, he stepped into a deep hole, (stupid armadillo!!) and fell down, twisting his knee. At first he thought he had a "I've fallen down and can't get up" moment, but made it up and called me to come help drive her back home. With all the work of getting equipment ready to go to the field, another unexpected job was at hand: fixing the fence.
With two Aleve tablets under his belt, he's been able to bale this afternoon and a friend came to help him haul the bales home to wrap them. Whew! I got out of that job!
These are pictures taken through my tractor's windows:
A big wild rose growing on the fence
The field ahead of me; our fields are not long and vast like prairie fields. We're surrounded by creeks and timbers, with all sorts of curves and bends to follow, and small in comparison to the prairie hay fields.
Beautiful, tender leaves of an oak tree, blowing in the wind. It's amazing to me, how many different oaks grow here along the creek.
We take the work that is ours to do, and thank our heavenly Father for health and strength to continue that work.