Baling hay was my favorite farm job. My first time at it, I was driving the baler and less than one round in, Grandpa Ray said, “Off! You can’t keep the tractor straight.” He gave me his gloves and I hopped on the rack with Dad. And that’s where I stayed.
Soon it was me and friends from school on the rack – guys, football players who hadn’t racked hay before. More motivation for me to literally buck up and stack faster, higher and better. Then, my brother came along and he and I manned the racks, bouncing through the hayfields, stacking the lofts. Lots of good work done. The heat never bothered me. The sweat mixed with dirt and itch of that alfalfa just meant I worked hard.
One day we unloaded five racks by dawn, and headed back to the fields trying to beat a storm. We baled hard that day.
The next day, I begged out of unloading. Something wasn’t feeling right. That afternoon, my mom took me to the hospital for an emergency appendectomy. Ooppss . . .
These days my dad rolls up a lot into round bales. My farm boy has already driven the baler for his uncle Peter. My fairy farm princess, however . . . well . . . we got her started early . . . right where her mama used to be.
Read more 30 Days of Farm Girl Memories
- Day 1: Surprise Kittens
- Day 2: The Men in My Life
- Day 3: Small Town Saturday Night
- Day 4: “Fall”ing in Love
- Day 5: A Bag of Caramels
- Day 6: Chores in the Dark
- Day 7: Things My Mother Said
- Day 8: Munchy Cheese
- Day 9: Super Swiffer Saturday
- Day 10: Dad’s Church
- Day 11: Kansas City, Then & Now
- Day 12: Video #Throwback: Field Meals
- Day 13: Eggs in A Nest
And find other 30 Day bloggers starting with the one who got us into this – Holly Spangler from My Generation.