Relative Something

Even though we haven’t cut any of our own hay yet, there is still some to be had from other sources. Cyndie has connected with a local grower she found through the people from whom we purchased our property. The trick is, we —or more correctly, I have to haul it with our truck. Cyndie is up at the lake for the holiday weekend.

Our pickup has only a 6 foot bed and I am not expecting we can fit very many small bales back there. I’m framing it as something of an ice-breaker meeting with the grower and a chance to sample his crop. If it seems like a good fit for all parties, we could borrow our neighbor’s flat-bed trailer to go back and get more.

I’m supposed to show up at 9:00 this morning, so I did some cleaning and rearranging in the hay shed last night to make room for new bales. First, I moved 28 small bales that remain from the batch we received near the end of March, putting them on the other side of the shed. Then I struggled to roll one last large 700 pound bale of the ditch hay out of the way.

I’m ready to see what the day brings.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.