230 Bales of Hay

We got a deal on hay.

In the morning we drove the truck to Wainfleet to borrow a big thrower hay wagon, so we could drive slowly to Vineland to pick up hay. It was a nice drive. It was nice to just sit and talk and sip scalding cups of coffee while the rain turned to snow.

We arrived at the hay barn and everything was very old, but well kept and neat as grandma’s kitchen. The old Dutch guy who helped us load was sturdy. His age was somewhere between sixty and seventy and he was in better shape than both Brent and I put together.

It took an hour to load the 230 bales into our wagon and we were sweaty in the cold morning, but proud as the old dutch farmer pulled the wagon out of the barn with his old massy tractor.

He asked if we were interested in a baler. Sure. Who wasn’t interested in a baler?

He took us out back to his canvas covered barn and we were shocked at all the new farming equipment. It was like a John Deere showroom. Harvesters and double rear wheeled four by four tractors. More haying equipment than I could imagine. While standing in tractor heaven I asked why he was driving the old 1950’s massy and he said “she’s my favorite.”.

Driving home with our load Brent and I scarfed back bananas, almonds and water. We discussed different lifestyles and how a dutch farmer survived all these years and raised nine kids. You don’t have to go overseas to see different cultures. Just ask a farmer.

Back at home we decided not to unload in the leanto where the hay would be used because of the mud, so we unloaded into the slightly less wet back garage. Our good friends Tim and Tanya showed up in time to unload and we owe our friends a debt of gratitude for all the free (paid in beer and food) labour. We chatted with each other, panting as we threw the bales and the boys stacked. It’s a great work out and a great way to laugh at each other. I get to throw fifty pound hay bales at my husband – there isn’t a wife alive who hasn’t had moments where they’d like to whip something at their husbands. It’s a good marriage building experience and trust exercise. No wonder farmers have such good relationships.

We finished the day with a beer and a heaping helping of gratitude. Sometimes it’s dangerous to stop by and you might be wrangled into unloading hay. Just ask Darren V about the second load of hay. He was wearing his good shoes too.

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