One fine day, I tried cutting our Winter rye. Planed to late last Fall, snowed on when the little fellers were just breaking ground the planting got snowed on obviously stunting its Fall and Spring growth. Like I’m writing, I tried cutting the crop for hay this very morning, the very first opportunity we’ve had under all this season’s rains. What I found was the rotary-conditioner not only had trouble cutting the limp stalked grass, whatever there was of it coming out the back the machine I likely could find enough of it tomorrow morning to even find it to bale it. Well, not a total loss what there was of it has made a weak cover crop and what there is of it it’ll still be of some good either plowed down or disked in. (a week Balderdash!)
Leaving the field it was break time: A glass iced tea and piece reheated leftover pizza was about to fill my bill. I was looking for courage to take on a field out back here, out of pure necessity. I need some re-grown pasture and soon for these ladies to munch on. Havin’ eaten some, I still felt a bit empty. Went scrounging around in refrigerator. That wasn’t easy, and myself in no mood to really fix anything substantial. I but got into a bit of this and bit of that.
Somewhat satisfied I was about to miss lunch I left the house Her Mostess laughing at me. I had told her, “Well, I might just as well go out and see just how stuck I can get everything stuck but good this afternoon.” Laugh, she did. I get no respect!
I cut a lot of hay this afternoon, But it was not without its perils. Water standing every where I had to be on my toes each and every round. Unable to avoid any grass hidden water holes when I felt one coming up there was my lifting the mower some to control rotary-conditioner drifting. Then there was the lifting the mower to avoid looping off the heads of ducks swimming around the clusters of wild orchard grass they were nibbling on. That last was all just as well for I’d no time to pluck and dress a bunch of dumb ducks anyway.
I can’t remember when I’ve seen so much standing water. While I had thought the rain had made the grasses grow occupationally tall that wasn’t the case I’ve an idea baled grass yields will be rolled up a good deal shorter than last year.
While I’m pecking away at the journal entry I’ve got three different weather reports. The weather guessers just can’t seem to make up their minds what us who are crop gathers can count on or even plan for or around. (curses)
Out and around beyond my Shorthorn country perimeter: Close in a tree fell down on Vassar road either on a car or the car run into it. Just around the corner on Mount Morris Rd. a barn caught fire and umpteen fire departments answered the call. No fire hydrants (surprise to me) fire fighting tankers rolled by here from all over. Had to been eight engines carrying water before all’s done. Further out a big old tree (it was said) tobbled somewhere near the little city of Clio putting all their lights out.
I took my rattlers on the go cutting hay. I picked up 12 more bushels lawn grass clipping and fed them to the ladies. Some turned their noses up over the dumping’s, others relished the offering as though my offering was some sort of a delicacy. Just goes to show a lady’s taste is unpredictable.
My eye lids drooping I’ve got to give it up. Whether anything I’ve written has made any sense is invenarial to me. I’ve simply got to close this menagerie of words and lay it down.