Hay, glorious hay!

Well, I am retired for the summer from my new career as a lunch lady. I think it has taken a week of "rest" (and I use that term VERY loosely), for my elbows and wrists to recover from the carpal tunnel of serving 10,000 lbs. of pasta every other day, alternating with washing, scrubbing and loading 768 large baking pans and toting 684 large trays of fruit to and fro.

Just to make sure I was thoroughly ready for summer, we cut hay on my third day home. Again, I am using the term "we" very loosely, as I sent a text message and later drove by the hay field, observing that, indeed, the hay was now lying flat in the field instead of standing. Pretty sure I did not sweat at all.

It was a day my lunch-lady boss termed: "a bad day to be a black dog", meaning humidity at 89% and temps setting records.

But for me, the sweating began later that night, when the weather man, who had sworn on his mother's grave that it would not rain for a fortnight, began suggesting that "isolated" showers might pop up. This, of course, brought back visions of 2009, when due to the monsoons in May and June, we did not cut hay until July 4, whereupon it rained for 12 STRAIGHT hours on my first cutting.

There were some spittles of rain during the next 48 hours, but Jim the hay wizard showed up with all his amazing devices, including the thingy that lifts 10 bales at a time, so he can load them on the wagon, WITHOUT my dad's help. Suffice it to say, that Dad was really relieved to see that big implement in action, since Handyman--as usual--was on some political spot out of town.

And then there's the great generosity of the "New Neighbor". NN is building a lovely home next door on the farm field we lusted after, but knew we could not afford. NN hasn't moved in yet, but along with his lovely home, he has had a very impressive barn erected. (In fact, we've already asked if #1 can have her graduation party there!)

Since Handyman wasn't due home until late the night of the baling, I was, as usual, needing to finagle to get the hay stored. My choices: 1) Have Dad, on the week before his 70th birthday, put up the hay with me...which means in our barn aisle, on the floor, where we could move it later; 2) Leave it on wagon and tarp it, hoping for best and at worst, weeping in yard, watching tarp blow off and hay ruined; or 3)ask NN if we could pull the full wagon into his Barn-Mahal, to sit for the night until Handyman arrives to unload.

I opted for #3 and NN generously agreed. Note to self: Fruitcake will not do as housewarming gift!

So, let's count...how many generous, kind, gracious neighbors do I have? 1. Firefighter who owns the field, and GIVES me his very nice hay...no gain for him; 2. Hay guy who drives multiple trips to cut "my" teeny weeny field, loans me his hay wagon overnight at no charge, loads the wagon with the amazing implement so Dad doesn't have to, and comes to pick up the wagon--all at no additional charge; 3)Neighbor with whom I share the hay who also comes to help unload; and 4) NN who allows his BRAND NEW barn-mahal to store my stuff BEFORE he even lives there!

And to top off this list, I would be remiss not to list my dear old dad, who was sure I would outgrow horses, and who came, AGAIN, the week of his landmark b'day, and did it again--impressed all of us with his awesome ability to not show his age and work hard just to be a good dad.

All for my silly yard-art horses, who serve no purpose on earth other than to make me smile and keep my biceps in shape pushing their dung around. ;) TYVM! to all and to all a good night!