Putting Up Hay

There are certain things that, when paired together, just seem right. In the summer, homemade ice cream tastes better, especially with a little chocolate syrup. Driving slowly down the highway to look at the crops is best with the windows rolled down, especially if it’s early in the morning or at the end of the day during the golden hour. It’s also tough to beat laying on a sleeping bag under clear skies in the backyard, with the family dog just a few feet away. A BLT sandwich made with lettuce and tomatoes straight from the garden is always better than anything you can get elsewhere. You can enjoy any of these by themselves, but the added element makes the difference between doing something and remembering the details of each experience.

Hot summer days and putting up small square bales of hay are a pairing I remember well. Being the youngest in the family, my first experience being involved in the process was driving the tractor for the hay rack. I remember the first day vividly. It was in the field on the east side of the farm, and the tractor was our H Farmall. I was young enough that I couldn’t reach the pedals, but the H had a hand clutch. The throttle was easily within reach in front of the steering wheel. Dad gave guidance on driving between the rows of bales, helping set the throttle, and sending me on my way. The crew consisted of brother Joe on the wagon stacking bales, with brother Bill, Dad, and our hired hand, Larry Musick, picking up and throwing bales onto the rack. Grandpa Alexander ran the New Holland square baler ahead of us. When he finished baling a field, he’d drive a second hayrack, and we’d split into two crews.

From the field, we’d head to Grandma and Grandpa Alexander’s to move the hay into storage in the barn. Cuma Alexander was always aware of our arrival and would greet us as we pulled into position by the barn door to unload. On cue, once the racks were bare, she was there to point us toward lawn chairs she set up in the shade. Here, we’d find a tray of ham salad sandwiches (cut into four squares), a pitcher of homemade lemonade, and usually something sweet she had baked that day. This brief break gave us a few minutes to forget the heat and pause to visit before going back to the field.

Miserable heat, dusty fields, scratched arms, water jugs, flat tires, and sunburns are among the highlights of stories I hear about putting up hay. While some of those are included in my memories, Grandma’s lemonade and snacks were the ultimate summer pairing.

Grandma’s lemonade is the standard I compare all lemonade to still today. You should try it yourself! Combine 3 quarts of water, 2 cups of lemon juice, and 2 cups of sugar. My guess is Grandma probably added a bit of extra lemon and sugar to make it a little more tart and sweet.

?

Tom Brand is a native of Hopkins, Missouri and a graduate of North Nodaway High School. He attended the University of Missouri and spent 19 years as a farm broadcaster at KMA and KFEQ radio before embarking on a 12-year career as Executive Director of the National Association of Farm Broadcasting (NAFB). He and his wife, Beth, live in St. Joseph.