A good ache though. Yesterday I made an electric fence run out the North side of the Barn for our slinky swine. This is primarily so that the pigs can root in the dirt. They get a lot of their essential minerals from the soil. 
Daisy and I went through our twice daily routine again. We seem to go down into a zone of calmness in the clean waiting milking parlour. Just brushing and chatting about the day. Getting her ready for her big role as the mother ship for the farmy. The giver of milk.
Once Our John got home he picked at the hay for a while, broke bits and twisted bits and decided to bale. He hitched up the second hand baler with much anticipation, it clanked and whirred and chugged along. The baler caught up all the hay, stuffed it into the barrel, made the shape, and popped it out the back with all the knots UNTIED. We got one good bale. ONE! The rest were just piles of hay.
The language deteriorated, the sighs began. He stalked about, stared at the machine, poked at it. When he went for his tools I decided that the best place for a woman when a man is having trouble with machinery is in the kitchen. So I made a cowardly exit and walked back to the house. Food is the great balm for failure and I did not see how he could possibly work out this mysterious problem with his limited baler knowledge. 
But lo and behold about 30 minutes later I heard the machine wind up and begin its slow journey about the tiny field again. I put lids on the pots and turned the burners off, then very, very gently and very quietly the dogs and I drove the truck down the fenceline to the back field, hoping for bales to load. But ready to reverse back behind the trees if there was nothing but a temper still flying about. And there they were. Our first bales of hay. All lined up. Tasty winter feed. So I began to take the bales back to the barn. It is important to get the bales off the ground and into the dry as soon as you can. So I worked until my arms and back were good and tired. Load after load. 
One of the bales fell apart as I was stacking so I called Queenie over to eat the evidence which she was very happy to do. They are stacked on the ground floor of the barn, on their sides with plenty of air between. I felt the fear. Because we are still learning. However it passed all the old timers tests, so once again we will cross our fingers, and leave it where I can see and smell it every day.
But our knowledge grew in leaps and bounds again yesterday afternoon. And the feeling of satisfaction from having 48 wonky, badly baled, loosely tied, roughly stacked, gorgeous sweet smelling bales of hay in the barn is enormous. From now on we can only do better!
Good morning. I hope you all have a lovely day. I am off to see the Old Codger this morning with TonTon. It is Friday! Strawberry Daquiris for Dinner Day!
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
76 responses to “Haymaking makes my Skinny Girlie Arms Ache.”
I do not miss messing around with hay bales – ha! Have a Great Weekend:)
Oh yes, I remember those roped hay bales (thanks to the pictures – I had no idea how they are called in English). Had been earning a bit of pocket money in school holidays, putting them on a fork and lifting them up to someone on the trailer, many levels high. No fun.
Correction: make that straw, not hay, for “my” bales.
Wow! Baling sounds the hardest work! Congratulations on seeing it through to the finish, Celi!
Great hay bales!
What a successful day!
I dont know much about farming but it sure seems like an excellent work out 🙂 Sounds like you had a productive day and daiquiris for dinner are surely deserved!!
Coincidental, as my wife and I spent most of yesterday out in a field gathering hay. But there were thankfully no problems with the baler. Mainly because we don’t have one! Instead we worked most of the day hand-raking the (4 acre) field into piles, then another couple of hours hand-loading the piles onto a large flatbed trailer. Later this morning we’ll then hand-fork the hay off the trailer into the barn. So…we, too, are still learning…but mostly about how it feels to be back somewhere in the 16th century. 😉
What an achievement – to bale your first hay. Congratulations, and may it all turn out to be the tastiest treat in the state.
That hay looks good enough to eat.
Good old Queenie, glad she stepped in! That kind of tired is a good tired isn´t it?!
Yey! bales. I bet you are both chuffed. I think you were wise to retreat to the kitchen 🙂
Regards Florence x
Noble Queenie. Yes it’s a hard and fine line between being on hand with sympathy and beating a retreat to a safe distance. But food and drink is always a balm to the soul. 🙂
I think I could have a serious Hippie Party with this: fresh bales of new-mown hay and strawberry daiquiris! 😀 In any event, it sounds tremendously rewarding and perfumey all at once!