Haulin' Hay

Here's the thing about hay....

....it doesn't like to be wet.

Ever.

Which is kinda odd, because when you are growing it, you pray and hope for rain constantly. 
But when it is time for bringin' it in, you pray and hope that it DOESN'T rain.

So the cutting was done on Friday, and the weather report called for rain Tuesday evening.  The plan was to bale on Monday, and then all the troops would assemble bright and early Tuesday morning to haul it in and stack it.

Surely you have figured out by now that NOTHING goes according to plan in my world.

Sunday evening we had a little cloud burst.  Not a long one, but plenty enough to wet everything down and send me into a controlled panic--i was trying to remain calm, because i do believe that The Father's will WILL be done, but the very human part of me was freaking out about not only paying to have the grass cut, but then having to buy hay for the rest of the year at the already sky high prices.

Monday morning was bright and sunny, and late in the morning, Mr. W. came out and "fluffed" the hay, so by late afternoon, it was a dry as it was gonna get. 

Around noon, i got a revised weather report.

Oh, by the way, Surprise!!! We forgot to mention...40% chance of thunderstorms Monday evening.

40%.

No way was i gonna roll the dice on that one, with everything that was at stake.  Called all the troops, and revised the plan.  Susan and ol' Blue couldn't make it on short notice, but thank goodness for The Krew.  They showed up about 5pm ready to haul.

Everyone worked, and worked hard and fast.

Mr. W. got about an hour's head start on us, and we pretty much followed him around the pasture.

Being in possession of the position of seniority meant that i got to drive the truck, so i would pull up in the middle of a couple of rows, and all the peeps would fan out. 

Hey!  Look!  I got everyone's "good side" all at once!

The Baas would catch the bales as they were tossed to her (and occasionally AT her) and stack them in back.

 Some bales were light as a big box of feathers.

 Others were heavy enough to require teamwork.

 Some bales were filled with allergens.

 Others were used for random drug testing.

Oh.  Wait.

LGA Union doesn't do that any more.

Guess George didn't get the memo.

Occasionally bales were used for union breaks.

We watched the fierce looking storm moving in from the west, and were in high gear all the way.  Eight kids and two women brought in just under 300 bales in 2 hours and 45 minutes.

We were REALLY HAULIN'.

We got the last of it stacked, high fived and whooped and hollered in the sprinkles, brushed and hosed off as best we could, and 10 minutes later it was pouring rain, in a pretty severe storm that lasted most of the night.

How do you spell relief? 

I spell it "B-A-R-N-F-U-L-L-O-F-H-A-Y-B-E-F-O-R-E-I-T-S-T-A-R-T-E-D-R-A-I-N-I-N-G."

Many, MANY thanks to The Baas and The Krew.  You saved our bacon, and were all so wonderful.  You have my undieing love and devotion.

Okay, you had that before, but now you got a whole lot more of it!!

I am especially fond of each and every one of you!!

Thank You