Final Field

With much trepidation over the weather forecast for the last week, we had been waffling between mowing and not mowing the last and smallest hay field. It becomes an intense workout of being ready to go yet not going for days on end. Finally with the promise (or simply hope and desire) that the weather was going to warm and hold clear for the next five days, Mike mowed down the thick, wet grass during a rain shower that was supposed to be the last one for a good stretch of time.

This rain didn’t start until he was well underway but lasted during most of the mowing. It doesn’t hurt the grass to be mowed while wet. It does matter if it gets rained on as it is in the drying process or if it doesn’t get a chance to season by drying off and curing.

While wet, the green grass does take a little longer to dry, but the breezes we have been experiencing help with the process of both drying the grass and the ground beneath. After the drying began and Mike was out fluffing the rows to allow for better air flow (I had mentioned in an earlier story about me not being able to tell where the fluffing rows were already fluffed or needed to be fluffed. Mike noticed the issue also and he took over the job since apparently he can see better and doesn’t miss rows. I am not offended at all by the change in fluffing status. I took the valuable time I would have been on the tractor and got the household laundry caught up and the stock tanks filled with water for the cows.)

Before he finished fluffing, the forecast changed and thunderstorms were being predicted as possible events in the  next four days. After all our waiting and holding, we now had to switch into high gear to go as fast as we could to get the field dry, raked, baled, picked up and stored in the barn where the harvest would be safe.

Bales being picked up in the foreground, a tractor baling in the backgroundWe baled up the middle of the field first since those rows were the driest then moved to the outside rounds.

Marilyn was running the baler and Mike was scooping them up into the bale wagon right behind her. In this picture, the baler is coming up behind the slow stacker was lagging and still picking up the last row while the baler had already made it around the field and is about to overtake the stacker.

We stayed in the field until nearly 10pm on this day to get every single, last, cotton-picking row baled, and picked up out of the field.

The bale wagon did not get unloaded, nor did the farm truck which were both stacked with bales. We did pull them into the barn where they are safe from any rain.

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2 thoughts on “Final Field

  1. We had neighbors for a few years that had a farm in Ontario, Canada. After a couple of years living here, they commented “We don’t see how anyone even thinks about haying in Oregon, with the weather so unpredictable.” Apparently, in Ontario, weather can be counted on. Good for you for dodging Oregon’s fickle ways.

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