My put together Day

Damnifiknow or remember what I did this morning? I do know that by 1:30 PM Shane and I were going to rake three out of the four stands of hay I had previously cut. And as we each noticed while three quarters a mile between us about to undertake raking the hay previously downed three days ago we were getting sprinkled on. Nuts, I moaned and groaned, and thought to heck with it, maybe the rain will quit or actually get with it. No communication between us, we had each figured we’d get on with it and see what developed and went on our individual ways.
Two guys raking hay three fields didn’t take long to these jobs done.Although the hay was raked in good time more time was still needed to let the hay dry. Thus we unloaded some small square bales off one hay wagon onto a couple pallets to keep them off the ground. The next thing I failed at was to have properly tarped the top of the pile to keep it relatively dry. (nuts) Wagons ready to go Shane and I took to my back fields to load the wagon. The Duck Lake pastured cleared (whoopee) I can electric fence post and hot wire it. Maybe tomorrow. Mosquitoes aught to be good and thirsty by then. That’d be my luck.
Two loads of hay theoretically stacked in my hay yard It was time to check hay for dryness. A quick trip to the corner, Oh yeah, I had better get on it. The baler from home I had finished up the field where an 1850 Schultz Ollie had lost a hydraulic hose. Field done.
Returning home the first check of the bottom’s hay (very low often wet location). The stuff a-top the east rim was bal-able. Checking the field behind a line of oaks wasn’t ready yet. So I took on the high bottom’s rim. Was making good time until the Baler squealed in protest. It had jammed. Worse yet it had thrown a drive chain. A familiar chain at that. This chain and I have spent a lot of time together. Proof? There’s got to be a near half dozen repair links (or master links) be jeweling that chain that has been so close to my heart in the past. Forget it. The big baler was standing idol and in no immediate need of fixing again (yet). Shane’s volunteered drive (drafted) I brought the old Vermeer 605F home. Having just gotten the mechanical beasts through the gates rain drops landing puddles the size of quarters, we looked at each other wondering, do we chance it heading out. A single moment’s hesitation between us we were dumped on. I’d sure liked to have made three more dryly baled hay rounds. Such is a farmer’s gambling luck. Well, at least for us, our location, the weather’s been a better blessing to live with than a drought.
At A loss for more words I’m closing out this account for the night. Sleep tight.
“Rainbows.”
Fernan