“How does the weather look for this week?” I ask my dad early Tuesday morning.
“Sunny and beautiful,” he replies.
In other words, that means perfect weather for haying.
“What are you going to mow?” my mom asks.
“Everything that is standing!” my dad says with a laugh.
That can only mean one thing, we have to unload the two wagons that are parked up in the shed. Because if he says he is going to mow everything standing, that means he is going to mow as much as he can before it is time for milking.
I shouldn’t be complaining, it's good to get the hay in now so we have plenty for the winter. Also, we don’t want a repeat of what happened last week. But still, around 280 bales is a lot to unload this early in the morning.
Oh, last week was a hard time. It started out just like today, a nice, sunny day with little clouds. It had been nice all week, perfect for haying, or so we thought. Since it looked like we were clear from rain for the next few days, my dad decided to mow the hay field right outside our house.
Everything was going according to plan, nothing had broken and we were right on schedule. While my dad mowed, I followed along and tedded it out. We were in a good position for the next day. However, the weather had a different plan. Probably about 30 minutes after we finished fluffing it all up to dry, it began to downpour. The only thing we could do was try again the next day. However, it did the same thing. It rained and rained. It ruined the hay. If we could manage to get it dry, the cows wouldn’t want to eat it anyway.
“We better get going if we want to have enough time to hay. We don’t want a repeat of last week,” I say to my mom and dad.
We head off to get the wagons to unload them. I think to myself, if only we could be in charge of the weather it would make farming a lot easier. We could make sure that it is sunny for haying and make sure there's enough rain for the crops to grow. Also make it so the frost doesn’t kill the crops when we aren’t ready. However, that isn’t an option. The weather always keeps us on our toes.
“Sunny and beautiful,” he replies.
In other words, that means perfect weather for haying.
“What are you going to mow?” my mom asks.
“Everything that is standing!” my dad says with a laugh.
That can only mean one thing, we have to unload the two wagons that are parked up in the shed. Because if he says he is going to mow everything standing, that means he is going to mow as much as he can before it is time for milking.
I shouldn’t be complaining, it's good to get the hay in now so we have plenty for the winter. Also, we don’t want a repeat of what happened last week. But still, around 280 bales is a lot to unload this early in the morning.
Oh, last week was a hard time. It started out just like today, a nice, sunny day with little clouds. It had been nice all week, perfect for haying, or so we thought. Since it looked like we were clear from rain for the next few days, my dad decided to mow the hay field right outside our house.
Everything was going according to plan, nothing had broken and we were right on schedule. While my dad mowed, I followed along and tedded it out. We were in a good position for the next day. However, the weather had a different plan. Probably about 30 minutes after we finished fluffing it all up to dry, it began to downpour. The only thing we could do was try again the next day. However, it did the same thing. It rained and rained. It ruined the hay. If we could manage to get it dry, the cows wouldn’t want to eat it anyway.
“We better get going if we want to have enough time to hay. We don’t want a repeat of last week,” I say to my mom and dad.
We head off to get the wagons to unload them. I think to myself, if only we could be in charge of the weather it would make farming a lot easier. We could make sure that it is sunny for haying and make sure there's enough rain for the crops to grow. Also make it so the frost doesn’t kill the crops when we aren’t ready. However, that isn’t an option. The weather always keeps us on our toes.
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.