Instead of a hay wagon, I rode on a stuker that left the bales in triangular stacks of 10. Then we’d come out with the trucks and pick them up and take them in to make big stacks close to the barn. Gawd… I hated it. It was hotter than hell, and you had to wear heavy clothes or the hay or straw bales would cut you up…
we baled 10000 a year never wore gloves
ReplyDeleteYer tougher than we were, A!
DeleteI never did it (I'm the smarter of two brothers) but my younger brother Shotgun Bob worked on a farm all summer, and part of that was baling hay. Wellsir, about the end of summer old Bob was in pretty good shape, and being a college kid had a portion of attitude on him. And so, you see, while delivering a load of hay the farmer and his son worked in the hay mow, stacking bales. That left old Bob at the hard end of a conveyor belt, feeding bales onto the conveyor in the hot hot dog days of August sun.
ReplyDeleteBob decided he'd had enough. He picked up the pace and worked those two right into the ground until they hollered for mercy. They yelled for him to stop, and his hearing wasn't too good. Then they yelled again, and he yelled back - 'Speak up!' - while loading. Then the farmer came to the door and yelled for him to cut it out.
It was remarkable quiet on the way back to the farm, but after that the really lousy jobs that a hired hand gets to do got portioned out, and he was treated with a bit more respect.
That must have been murder...being that far south and hotter n' blazes...
DeleteEasier than driving T posts building fence
ReplyDeleteNot in our neck of the woods... we rented a post pounder...
DeleteBeen there, done that, no plans ever to participate in hay production again. I would say it is par with driving T posts.
ReplyDeleteYou and I both, brother. If I ever DO have to do it again, my fat arse is on the tractor and no bones about it...
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