That saying is an oldie but a goodie, and definitely applies to us today. Last nights weather report was all good, up until about Thursday, and so trusting the metrologist's (as there is no other option) we are good to go. Unfortunately we did get a bit undecided this morning as we got a bit of heavy rain, but it now seems to have gone and the cutting of hay has begun.
Hay making is one of my favourite farm activities. The smell of freshly cut grass. The sweet smell of hay when it gets baled. I also love the memories, back in the day of conventional bales, when the hay gangs (usually students) would be busy all summer stacking up truck and trailers with bales of hay, tanned and muscular from all the hard physical work. Ahhh, a time when men were men! Then there would be the sitting around, having a feed and a 'beer' after a hard, solid, days work.
I also remember my father stringing up a couple of bales in the hay shed, chucking on an old saddle, so my sister and I could ride and swing to our hearts content. No doubt it saved my poor pony from being ridden into the ground. Dad only did this for us for one year. In hindsight he must have discovered them to be bloody annoying when he had to get the rest of his hay out of the shed, lucky he was kind hearted enough to leave them up for the summer season.
As an aside, another of my favourite farm activities is shearing, but now I am on a dairy farm I have to survive on my shearing memories alone. I love the smell of raw wool with its lanolin!
I also remember my father stringing up a couple of bales in the hay shed, chucking on an old saddle, so my sister and I could ride and swing to our hearts content. No doubt it saved my poor pony from being ridden into the ground. Dad only did this for us for one year. In hindsight he must have discovered them to be bloody annoying when he had to get the rest of his hay out of the shed, lucky he was kind hearted enough to leave them up for the summer season.
As an aside, another of my favourite farm activities is shearing, but now I am on a dairy farm I have to survive on my shearing memories alone. I love the smell of raw wool with its lanolin!
The neighbour has also decided that it might be a good time to spread some fert. Obviously one of the quickest ways to do this is via helicopter. Those pilots have some serious skills!
I tried to be seriously quick with the next photo. My better half cutting hay, milk tanker collecting milk, and helicopter doing fert. All tools of the agricultural trade!
And I couldn't resist getting a few shots of the dog. She is a pound puppy, black lab x kelpie. Unfortunately our farm is too small for a real farm dog, there would not be enough work for one, so we have our pet instead. I am hoping to rehome a retired huntaway at some stage. I just love farm dogs and think that rehoming a dog that is passed their working best would be a great compromise.
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