Last night we got The Call. "I left a rack of hay on the hill for you. I need the rack back by 10:30 tomorrow morning."
That's how it works. The man who cuts the hay on the field behind our house regularly leaves us a rack full of hay when he bales. We unload it and give him his rack back...with a check for the hay. We usually have more time, though, to empty the rack.
This morning we were up at 6am, out at 7, to unload hay. I wish I had $1 for every time I though, "I wish I knew where my camera was." It's gone AWOL again. I had so many neat shots to capture for you. Mary flinging bales off the rack, the morning sun making her a silhouette. John moving hay from the hand truck to the hay tent, little beads of sweat growing on his Army Dad t-shirt. There was even a neat, artsy-fartsy one with soft strands of green grass hay filling the viewfinder, with a small, dried Queen Anne's Lace in the right lower quadrant. Can't you just see it?
About 10, with 120 bales in the tent and another 30-40 still sitting on the driveway, I had to head to work. I came home with fried chicken, beans and watermelon. Keri had made an apple pie. Jay and Kris brought the younglings. It was a nice evening.
Now I'll sit back and relax in front of a movie. Maybe this one.