Oh, haaaaay. Well, not actually hay. In the past it was hay, but this year it was straw. (Hay is from alfalfa and straw is from wheat… the things I’ve learned since marrying David!)
There’s a field on the farm the Benedicts bales every year. After a combine separated the grain, the stalks were left for baling. A tractor pulled the baler, which picked up the straw, compressed it, tied it, then spit it out the back onto the trailer for stacking. I think Grandpa said the baler was 50 years old.
David loves working on the farm. I love seeing him in his element:
I was not a baler, but I hung around for moral support. I rode in the Gator with Grandpa to drop off some twine:
It was dusty, dusty work!
All ready for auction:
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