My other job
So… previously in this blog, I have detailed the ins and outs of my internship in DC, my work on The Pleiad website, working for the Alumni Office, and working as a freelance reporter for the Sanilac County News. And while I may have mentioned that I’m from a small town, I don’t think I’ve told you that in that small town I live on a farm.
Yes, a working farm.
My family grows cash crops–soybeans and hay this year, though we’ve done wheat and corn in the past as well. Cash crops mean that, for the most part, I don’t have to do a whole lot on the farm. There is one big exception to that statement: hay season.
For those of you who don’t know, hay almost always comes off when it is both incredibly hot and incredibly still. Which makes the process of cutting, raking, baling, and stacking the hay very uncomfortable for all involved.
The mow (the raised loft area in the barn used for storing hay) can get as hot as 100 degrees (or hotter) with limited air movement, and the average bale of hay is about 60-70 lbs. We do anywhere between 900 and 1500 bales of hay with each cutting. Usually I’m in the wagon tossing bales down to be put on the elevator up to the mow, which means I handle every bale we put up at least once. Our equipment’s getting a little old, so on occasion we end up stacking the hay in the wagon as it’s baled and then stacking it again up in the mow for storage.
Hay season has been a part of my life for nearly as long as I can remember, and it comes part and parcel with living on a working farm. It’s definitely at the other end of the spectrum from my day to day jobs, but there’s something oddly satisfying about coming in after unloading three or four wagons of hay, aching all over and sweating, and just collapsing into a heap in a chair.
No, seriously.