The Hay
We decided to call all the animals here “The Little Sisters and Brothers of the Abbey.” From the house you can see them grazing in the meadows below. It’s October and time to think about hay for the winter. Being from the city I thought you just go to the store and get hay. No, I am not that dumb. I know that you go to a feed store to get hay, right? Wrong! They don’t have hay. Nor does the local granary sell hay. "You can’t buy hay from a store! You need to talk to a farmer." Great, so you just drive into a totally stranger farmer’s yard, knock on his door and ask for hay? I don’t think so! That’s not the “city way.” There has to be a better idea.
Waiting until the last minute, and really, truly desperate, we found out about a hay auction at the local auction center. So off we went, Jess, Sarah, and I, determined to get hay. We were excited about this, it should be fun. We registered and received our bidding number and strolled out to look at the many piles of hay in the back. Now let me tell you about hay. Hay comes in many varieties. There is hay with alfalfa, hay with timothy, orchard hay, all alfalfa, and ditch hay. Asking, we decided on timothy and orchard, and found several piles of both.
So there we were amongst the hay, and about 20 old farmers all dressed in their bib overalls. Jess in his Polo and Dockers, Sarah in a cream colored frock, and me in an all white Elvis-jeweled jump suit and open-toed heals. We fit right in. We had decided that Jess should do the bidding as he was: A. taller, B. a man and C. we didn’t know how.
The bidding began; soon we approached one of the piles we had decided on. Zoom … the auctioneer exploded in auctioneers' language “one, one, one, one, one-five, one-five, one-five ; two, do I have two, two, two, two; two-five, two-five, two-five, two-five, sold!” And there we stood, looking at each other! What happened? Okay…okay, we are coming to the next pile. “Two, two; two-five, two-five; three, three, three, three sold.” Now all eyes fell on Jess. At this point, I am beginning to feel like a prize fighter’s manager, telling my boy to “relax, get in there and land that winning blow. Here it comes, we are coming up to it, GO!” And so it began we were in there with two-five, two-five, and suddenly it went to “…three, three, sold!” Now I hate to say that my son-in-law is a little cheap, because I love him to death, but he does squeak slightly. So the bidding went on. Ending always just out of our reach, until there was only one pile left. Now we need this hay. We don’t have any hay and suddenly it’s no longer we, it’s me, and it’s personal! This pile has my name on it – it’s mine. I want it. I don’t care what it costs. I have to have this pile of hay! “Jess, this is the one, the only one left, get this one! You don’t have a choice! This is it!
The “SOLD” fell on us like a steam roller over hot pavement. No hay. The bid was lost. Total silence. Total complete silence. Walking back to the car in silence. Uncomfortable silence. Dead-quiet driving. Form the back seat, I think I have to break the tension …the silence; I asked “what would you like for dinner?” Sarah sitting in the front seat blurted out “well, it won’t be hay, because we don’t have any!”
Jess disappeared and an hour later comes back with a wagon of hay. Yup it was the total stranger thing. So here in the country our needs are met, hope yours are too, as it’s just another day at The Abbey. Ruth
We decided to call all the animals here “The Little Sisters and Brothers of the Abbey.” From the house you can see them grazing in the meadows below. It’s October and time to think about hay for the winter. Being from the city I thought you just go to the store and get hay. No, I am not that dumb. I know that you go to a feed store to get hay, right? Wrong! They don’t have hay. Nor does the local granary sell hay. "You can’t buy hay from a store! You need to talk to a farmer." Great, so you just drive into a totally stranger farmer’s yard, knock on his door and ask for hay? I don’t think so! That’s not the “city way.” There has to be a better idea.
Waiting until the last minute, and really, truly desperate, we found out about a hay auction at the local auction center. So off we went, Jess, Sarah, and I, determined to get hay. We were excited about this, it should be fun. We registered and received our bidding number and strolled out to look at the many piles of hay in the back. Now let me tell you about hay. Hay comes in many varieties. There is hay with alfalfa, hay with timothy, orchard hay, all alfalfa, and ditch hay. Asking, we decided on timothy and orchard, and found several piles of both.
So there we were amongst the hay, and about 20 old farmers all dressed in their bib overalls. Jess in his Polo and Dockers, Sarah in a cream colored frock, and me in an all white Elvis-jeweled jump suit and open-toed heals. We fit right in. We had decided that Jess should do the bidding as he was: A. taller, B. a man and C. we didn’t know how.
The bidding began; soon we approached one of the piles we had decided on. Zoom … the auctioneer exploded in auctioneers' language “one, one, one, one, one-five, one-five, one-five ; two, do I have two, two, two, two; two-five, two-five, two-five, two-five, sold!” And there we stood, looking at each other! What happened? Okay…okay, we are coming to the next pile. “Two, two; two-five, two-five; three, three, three, three sold.” Now all eyes fell on Jess. At this point, I am beginning to feel like a prize fighter’s manager, telling my boy to “relax, get in there and land that winning blow. Here it comes, we are coming up to it, GO!” And so it began we were in there with two-five, two-five, and suddenly it went to “…three, three, sold!” Now I hate to say that my son-in-law is a little cheap, because I love him to death, but he does squeak slightly. So the bidding went on. Ending always just out of our reach, until there was only one pile left. Now we need this hay. We don’t have any hay and suddenly it’s no longer we, it’s me, and it’s personal! This pile has my name on it – it’s mine. I want it. I don’t care what it costs. I have to have this pile of hay! “Jess, this is the one, the only one left, get this one! You don’t have a choice! This is it!
The “SOLD” fell on us like a steam roller over hot pavement. No hay. The bid was lost. Total silence. Total complete silence. Walking back to the car in silence. Uncomfortable silence. Dead-quiet driving. Form the back seat, I think I have to break the tension …the silence; I asked “what would you like for dinner?” Sarah sitting in the front seat blurted out “well, it won’t be hay, because we don’t have any!”
Jess disappeared and an hour later comes back with a wagon of hay. Yup it was the total stranger thing. So here in the country our needs are met, hope yours are too, as it’s just another day at The Abbey. Ruth
I enjoy keeping up with your experiences.I can tell you love it so much :)
ReplyDeleteregards,
Carl