This 15 acre field produced 650 square bales. That is about 4 loads of Hay with 160 bales per load. This is hot, dusty work, but something our family enjoys doing together.
Greg's father had the lease on this farm ground when we purchased the land last fall. So this is his hay that his grand-kids are hauling. Yes, a grand-dog too, Kate.
4 generations of haulers have stacked hay in this metal barn at the "West-Quarter". Here are 3 of them.
Not very often is the "Sister" needed to haul. But when the older brother's hay fever gets him down she has what it takes.
I rode along as their devoted fan, and was treated to a near catastrophe as we traveled North on Peebly Rd.
Shane is riding shotgun at the front of the hay wagon on the last bale loaded. We are heading West on Sorghum Mill getting ready to turn North on Peebly. Shane's dad is sitting to his left at the steering mechanism that is supposed to control this behemoth. His mother, me, is sitting right behind him enjoying the breeze. I am enthroned on the third to last bale loaded before heading to the barn, leaning against the stack behind me. After loading someone hung a hay hook on the "dash". As we traveled up the gravel road to the barn, the hook vibrated loose, fell down and engaged the chain driven conveyor used for the purpose of UNLOADING bales from this beast. At the same moment as I realize that our youngest son is quickly advancing to the end of the chute, the bale I am reclining on follows it's companions and I fall to the teeth of the conveyor. I definitely can say "I married Adventure".
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