BALING HAY TIME AGAIN
Baling started early this year. Usually here in Southern Ohio it starts about the 4th of July. Today is May 23rd and the farmers down the road were already busy cutting, raking, baling and rolling their first batch of hay of the season.
When Dustin and Bobby were in junior high and high school they baled hay for a farmer near us named Wayne Bower. Wayne and his wife, Norma, were in their late seventies when the boys started working for them. Norma stood less than five feet tall but was a spit fire in every term of the word.
She drove a hay wagon and you could hear her yelling out orders as she kept the crew in line and working at a steady pace. She loved to tease and flirt with Bobby and would get such a kick out of how embarrassed he would get. Wayne and Dustin would tease him unmerciful about it. Bobby took it all in good spirit and would warn Wayne he was going to steal Norma away from him.
They would bale from sun up to sun down, stopping each day under the lone oak tree in the fields that provided shade, to eat a sack lunch and drink a gallon of sweet tea. They would drag home each night with scratched up arms and aching backs and fresh earned folding money in their pockets.
But, as time has a way of doing, it moved on. The boys grew up and moved into their adult lives and, sad to say, Wayne and Norma both passed on many years ago. Nothing stays the same forever.
To this day when I see a field of hay bales lying in the afternoon sun I think back on those days. Great days when the boys were young and still home, when baling hay would end and football two-a-days would begin and then Friday nights under bright lights would soon follow.
Fields of hay holds a special place and time in my heart.
Gosh I miss those days!