All it takes is weather.
We don't bale our own hay. I don't own the equipment to do so, having not planned on a life in the country. Eventually, perhaps, we'll buy all the machinery needed to pack a barn with hay - used, of course.
C'mon, Powerball!
In the meantime, with the help of neighbors and a little trading for goods and services, the horses will be fed, if the weather cooperates. That last part of the sentence is the one thing we cannot control - the weather.
Slowly we're learning the signs. I can now tell, more or less, when the fields are ready to be chopped and baled for our first cut of the year. If you farm, you're probably laughing at such a simple statement, but remember, my wife and I were raised in the suburbs. The simple talent of recognizing ripe grass is a major step in our learning process. I'm a slow learner.
OK. It's ready to cut. Now what, other than call for help?
All it takes, from what I've learned, is three, perhaps four solid days of sunshine. That doesn't seem like a lot, especially to someone from, say, Iowa, where the sun does, indeed, shine. For those of us who live down here in the left hand corner of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, the concept of three or four continuous days of sunshine in June is a long shot at best.
July? No problem. We'll get a week or two when no rain will fall at all. August? Abundant sunshine, enough to turn any field into a desert! June? Good luck.
Day one is to cut the hay. It takes another day to rake it. And on the third day (as it is written in the book of John Deere, chapter four, verse one) the baler rolls through our fields, tossing green blocks into a wagon.
Four days of sunshine is best, but we'll take three.
We're not alone in this. Most farmers in our area are spending these days of June sky watching. As I ride through the hills, I notice that tractor drivers are divided into three groups - those who wear big hats in the open, those who wear small hats under canopies and those who have enclosed cabs.
I would imagine that once you've moved from a tractor without shade to one with a canopy, there's no turning back. I'm sure that guys with air conditioning never want to return to the days of open-air farming, either.
One thing is certain. While we're wet now, come August, we'll be hoping for rain.
Go figure.
To hear Scott Paulsen's column, visit www.observer-reporter.com. He can be heard each weekday afternoon from 3-7 p.m. on 1250 ESPN Radio.