Haying Season

Right now, in rural towns all over the Northeast, farmers are haying. Basically, that means they cut down their hayfields, let the hay dry, and use machines to bale it. Those haybales are then put in the barn and used as feed for domestic animals such as horses, sheep, and llamas during the winter months when there's no pasture for them to graze on.

I've been slinging haybales ever since I can remember. When you grow up on a farm, you have no choice in the matter- everyone has to pitch in. Last Friday, I got the call from my dad. 

"Hey Michelle. I just wanted to let you know I have a hayfield down (meaning cut). I expect to bale it tomorrow afternoon." 

I made a note of it and planned to be there the next day.

Twenty minutes later, Dad called back. "I just came home to rake the hay (speeds drying) and it's already dry. So we'll be taking it in around 5 today instead." This call came at about 3:45. 

A call like that means we need to head down there to pitch in if at all possible. Several of my parents' friends received the same call. As you can see from the pictures, some of them came, even at that late notice. When you're making hay, you are at the mercy of the weather. Luckily, when you live in a farming community, folks pitch in as needed. A few nights before, when they brought in the first loads of hay, some neighbors were driving by and saw them out there working. Of course, they stopped to help.

What kid doesn't want to ride on a haywagon?

Especially when they get to sit up high.

This machine picks the haybale off the ground...

and coveys it up and onto the wagon. Much easier than lifting them off the field like we did when I was a kid.

The metal track on the front guides it in.

Now, here's an interesting fact you may not know... because farmers need help bringing in hay, many will gladly accept help from folks who offer. If you have kids who love seeing tractors up close, this is a great opportunity. Or maybe you're a homeschooler looking for a more hands-on way to teach your kids about farming. My dad loves showing kids how it's done. When parents come to help bring in hay, the kids get to ride along (that's my two kids, plus a friend's kids in the photos).

So, if you live near a farm, drop by some time and ask if they need help bringing in hay. You never know...if they're like my dad, they'll welcome your help and you and your kids will get a great education in the process.

(Tip for those who have horses or other domestic animals that need hay: if you buy the hay "off the field," meaning you load your truck or wagon by picking it up off the field, you pay a lower price. My dad loves this arrangement because he doesn't have to handle the haybales. Buyers like it because they save money).

Haying tips:

1. If you have allergies, this may not be the field trip for you. If you really want to go, I'd suggest taking any allergy medication you normally use before you go. (Note: I am not a doctor. Seek medical advice as needed).
2. Wear long pants and long sleeves, NO MATTER HOW HOT IT IS. Even if it's 95 degrees with 95 percent humidity Trust me, please. Hay will prick your skin and make you itchy for days.
3. Wear work gloves.
4. Blow your nose several times after haying. Using saline may help remove the bits that get in there. Go back and enlarge my second photo (of the kids at the back of the wagon) by clicking on it. You'll see why.
5. Apply bug spray.
6. Pace yourself, especially if there's no conveyor. There's no need to race ahead of the wagon trying to outdo the other workers. Let the wagon come to you. (We always laugh at the newbies who do this...teen boys are the most apt.)
7. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.
8. Laugh.
9. Have fun.
10. Ask questions.
11. Learn together as you experience this new bit of nature and culture rolled into one.

Maybe the farmer will even let your kids climb up to the top of the haybales in the barn.

How about where you live? Have you seen farmers bringing in hay? I'm interested to know what's happening in other parts of the country/world. When I was in Morocco in the month of July, I saw a truck loaded with hay bales just like the ones we make here.

Family Connections

Connections are important to me. Connections between people. Connections between people and nature. If we had more of both, I believe we'd have a lot fewer problems in the world. While this blog focuses on connections between kids from different cultures and kids and nature, I'd like to take a little side trip today. It may seem disconnected to you, but stick with me. I hope my comments will help you understand.

How connected are your children or students to their relatives, both dead and living? I ask this question because I believe fully understanding your family's values and beliefs enables you to make choices about continuing or rejecting those beliefs.

I am fortunate to come from a solid foundation. I grew up with my relatives nearby. When I was young, four generations lived on our farm, so I had a sense of family history.  I felt loved by my great-grandfather and great grandmother right on down to my aunts and uncles. I learned to live close to the land as I helped feed the animals, bring in the hay, and work the vegetable gardens. I learned independence romping in the woods and fields alone or building forts with my friends. I'm certain I am a naturalist because of this early beginning.

Only later, as a pre-teen, did I start to question the opinions expressed by certain relatives. I heard racial and ethnic slurs uttered on many occasions by some extended relatives. One grandfather thought women should stay home and have babies. He told my parents, "You do not waste money educating women." I didn't always like my extended family or the prejudice that existed. My questioning of that prejudice, and my parents' recognition of it, gave me the courage to grow and reach for something better. Being firmly rooted to my nuclear family and my home gave me the courage to spread my wings and fly half way around the world as an exchange student when I was just 16 years old, even when my grandfather said I belonged at home.

My parents did not want us to repeat my family's history of racism, sexism, antisemitism, etc. (you name an "-ism," it was present in my extended family). They worked hard and raised their daughters to be strong and independent. They pushed us to aim high. Each of us has studied abroad and earned Master's degrees- the first women in our family to do either.  Each of us is a strong independent woman because of our parents. Each of us views the world in a more global way than was the norm in our small home town. I am certain I am passionate about race relations and interactions between people because of the blatant prejudices I experienced as a child and my parents' critical responses to it.

The other day, as I walked in my yard photographing my beautiful flowers, all of these ideas flooded my mind. What made that happen you might ask? My strong roots, that's what. I live in the house my maternal grandparents lived in when I was a child. My parents live in my paternal grandparent's house. All around me I see evidence of my grandparents. This home is certainly ours now- we've lived here more than 15 years and made many changes to make it our own. One thing that hasn't changed is some of the gardens and plants. As I walk through my gardens, I see the flowers my grandmother planted all those years ago still blooming. Her snowdrops, crocuses, and daffodils still push up through the snow every spring. Each time I see them I think of her and smile. My front garden is a riot of color right now- some of it my grandmother's plants, some of it plants dug from friends' and relatives' gardens over the years. Gardening goes way back in my family. As I walked and photographed each of those flowers yesterday, I thought of the person who gave them to me. And there's the seed of this whole post: connections between the people in my life (some living, some dead) and nature, in the form of the plants they gave me.

For your viewing pleasure... here is a sampling of those flowers and who they're from:

My deceased grandmother's clematis. This is the first time it has bloomed for me.

My grandmother's iris. Yellow was her favorite color.

Peony dug from my uncle's garden. That ant is doing it's job--soon a full bloom!

Lupine my mom grew from seed.

Geranium dug from my great aunt's garden 10 years ago.

Iris from the original plant my mom dug from her grandmother's garden back in the 60's.

I maintain strong connections to the family that nurtures me. I embrace my family’s legacy of living close to the earth- of growing food and flowers and animals-but I reject the legacy of prejudice. I can only choose to embrace or reject something once I have recognized it, considered it, and acted in response to it.

How about you? What is your family legacy? What makes you proud? What do you want to change for your children? How will you make that happen?