If I go to some desert area, all that needs to happen to turn it into a beach is for me to cut hay.
It’s been so dry here for most of the summer that the sand fleas are farting dust, and now this.
Friday evening about dusk one of those little thunderstorms that is about 100 yards wide dumped about an inch of rain on my hayfield.
I turned the windrows over Saturday morning, but there is so much humidity in the air nothing is drying out. There was another quick shower in the afternoon but I don’t think it made any difference.
It will be Monday before it’s ready to bale.
All suited up with no way to make hay.Monday, when I go back to being a computer geek instead of a farmer.
Oh well, the joys of farming part time are many.
My crew, the world famous over the hill gang, a.k.a. Misters Cooney and Nelson are going to make enough hay to insure the equipment is all adjusted up and working properly. This is because they worked on the knotter and bale chamber over the winter.
1 comment:
I thought we might be related! I should have recognized you as a long lost cousin. You and I are members of the Murphy family. Not only does Murphy's law apply, we carry the name...
Good luck with the hay, friend. We got ours put up without any rain this year, but we practically dodged rain clouds.
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