Fifteen tons and what do I get? I got barns with hay stacked high. I am right proud! We are deep into the season of piling up reserve and I hate the work this year as bad as ever, but I sure am glad to see the hay roll into the barns.
The tractors still roar, smell bad, shake your liver to pieces, and I hate the knowledge that sometime each day something will break, collapse, spring into a cavity that it shouldn't and cost a couple of good steers to repair. While the repair is in the works, a small rain cloud will appear and drop four inches on the cut and raked field.
The male offspring are in the season of delight for they live and breathe hay season. The grease under their fingernails and hurry up and wait is adrenalin to them. I remember wondering if I should drown them as pups, but now they are sure handy! The grands are also enjoying the events, mainly the huge lunch provided by my close relative and their mothers. I am not complaining out loud because I am glad to be hauling in the bales in an air-conditioned truck with a good radio.
I check the cattle, pour out some mineral and make sure that water is available in all the pastures. If all is well, I stop at the coffee emporium and check in on the roundtable news. The old codgers know the news, how many bales certain fields produced and who has had what breakdowns. Spending 15 minutes in their newsroom saves me from the awful job of greasing all the certs and tightening bolts.
Don't get to thinking I am lazy; I don't mind work. I am the main muscle around this rock pile since the lava dried. I built the fences, seeded pastures and put together the beginning of our herds, and not alone as my close relative worked alongside me. I am happy when busy and I had rather have a productive day than not. I just hate hay season!
The old hay truck didn't start, so we hooked a chain on and pulled it out of the shed. I am going to replace it this year, and we will have a funeral for the old one. It has been here and done the job for many years. I think it is a 1953 model. I guess we should advertise it and someone would buy it to restore and drive it in some of those parades. I have notified the dealers that I need an old, very cheap, in perfect running condition truck. I am sure I will get a deal.
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, the existence of a poor man is made richer as the life of a beef producer. You can't begin to put a price on the wag of the dog's tail, the morning sky as dawn breaks, mockingbirds trilling and the call of a cow to her calf. I am old enough to understand that contentment is mighty important. So is the jingle in a feller's pocket and, thank the Lord, that comes along occasionally. Grin at all you meet today and wave at all you pass. Make this one a good day!
Bill is the pen name of the Gravette-area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 06/13/2018