Stacking Hay

Yesterday was hay-stacking day.  If hay gets wet, it gets moldy and most of it will be lost.  So we had to get it stacked and covered before the rain comes.  Praise God that the day we had free turned out to be nice weather — not too cold, not too hot, and not raining. 

While my husband took bales out to the shed, the girls and I stacked the others up.  Those bales are 80-90 pounds and we've learned to avoid dead-lifting. We did as much rolling as we could.  We even figured out how to make steps in the stack and roll them up to the top.  With all of us working, it went faster than I expected. Even so, we noticed our muscles getting less effective as the afternoon went on.

As we got to the end, my husband could do the dead-lifting, but we helped guide the bales into place.  Even he was getting fatigued and those bales just wouldn't throw for him like they did at the beginning.

As my back and arms ached, I thought about how this is traditionally man's work and I chuckled that there are some benefits to those gender-roles.  We rejected that a long time ago,  especially the valuing of men more than women that came with it.  But aside from ideology, I think I also just prefer working together.   It is good to share the whole life.

After it was stacked, we set up a carport around the stack.  It took almost as long to get the carport set up as it took to stack the hay, but at least there was no lifting involved.  Not all of the hay fit within the carport area, so we wrapped it snugly with a gray tarp. 

It was a hard day, but we got it done.  As soon as we were finished we filled into the shower.  Those of us who are most allergic went first, but everyone got clean.  I did a better job staying covered than last time and I had fewer welts from the hay.

At the beginning of the day I was thinking, "man, so much work all we get out of it is stacked hay."  But then I thought how similar this work is to bringing in the harvest.  This is winter food for the cows that translates directly into milk and cream for us, and eventually meat.  With Christina only a week-and-a-half from her due date, we are getting anxious for that milk.  This stacked hay, protected from the elements, makes me feels snug and secure.  It will be a good winter.