Today we gathered the hay. And it sucked. First off while it was technically only 82 degrees out, it was also humid as fuck. Like your sweat does nothing puny mortal humid. It was like the weather gods were laughing at me while I slaved away under the fucking sun. Also whenever I would give in and take a break a cloud would roll through but whenever I was like, whelp, time to get back at it the sky would be clear forever.
Asshole sky motherfucker.
Second, they were calling for thunderstorms later in the day because of course they were. Of course at this point I probably really wouldn't have been surprised by a rain of frogs or snakes or someshit either.
So we only waited until noon for the dew to burn off before we staggered out of the house with pitchforks got the truck and headed off to meadow number one. This was the sparsest meadow, so it only filled up the entire pickup truck. So the whole time we are filling it I am eye balling the storage shed, hoping that this entire load fits in there because if it doesn't they the other three fields are going to have to be tarped and we will be back to square one where I am fighting a foot of snow off a giant tarp every time I need hay in the winter.
And nobody wants that.
Of course we try to cram another entire meadow into the truck along the way because ha ha why not? I mean it's not like there's any reason to keep the hay below the cab right? I mean it's totally not my fault that Scott got too hot to work and there was a bunch of hay that got caught in the drivers side door right? I mean like, when I'm all like, it's time to move the truck and he's all like I need a moment I should totally continue to pack it right?
Anywho. Finally we get to the point where we can't pack hay into the back of the truck anymore because it is starting to list to one side like a rusty container ship with a leak. So we go offload it into the storage shed. Which only really fills it up halfway. So then I feel super awesome that this shed is shedding like a champ and then we have to go fill the truck again.
Which if I haven't made it clear, is the really shitty part.
But we got it filled and everywhere on my body was sweating by this point but the breeze was being a dick so I pretty much had to deal with feeling like I had been caught by one of those plant misters. Except one that had been filled with salt water.
Anyway, despite my complaining we filled up the truck with another two meadows worth of hay. Which I was desperately hoping would all fit into the storage shed it had only taken us, like a fucking month of our lives to build. And then we drove over there and started cramming hay in and more and more kept fitting like some sort of fucked up reverse clown car until I was looking at an empty truck. And then we both looked at the shed.
Which I am pretty sure at this point was folding space time in on itself.
And then we went to do the last meadow and repeated the whole process again. Except this time I had to climb up into the shed and squash the hay back down, which was both the most comfortable and also the most itchy thing ever. You would think those two would be mutually exclusive, but it turns out they aren't. Yeah I know I was surprised too. Either that or it was the heat talking.
So then we really did have to shove hay in until we couldn't get anymore in there and then I made a separate pile to use this summer and stored some for the bunnies in there spare cages and told everyone that they had better fucking appreciate this come winter.
And then the chickens showed me their appreciation by jumping up in the shed and pulling the hay back out so I had to cram boards in the door way like the worst puzzle ever and then they had to content themselves with pooping all over my porch.