Peevish Pen

Ruminations on reading, writing, rural living, retirement, aging—and sometimes cats. And maybe a border collie or other critters.

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Location: Rural Virginia, United States

I'm an elderly retired teacher who writes. Among my books are Ferradiddledumday (Appalachian version of the Rumpelstiltskin story), Stuck (middle grade paranormal novel), Patches on the Same Quilt (novel set in Franklin County, VA), Them That Go (an Appalachian novel), and several Kindle ebooks.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Green, Green

. . . the grass that is. And it's high.

Everyone is making hay this week. Well, everyone but us. The guy who cuts for us won't be available until next week.

My cousin has been up and down the road with his tractor for a couple of days now.


This what what some of the hay he made looks like:


Is that pretty, or what? Another neighbor, a dairy farmer, makes big square bales:


Those bales are huge! You can't lift them by hand.

This morning, I finally talked John—since he isn't busy raking hay— into mowing some of the trails at the farm. Here, he's mowing the farm driveway. The hay field is behind him.


See how high the grass was?


He didn't cut the part of the trail that goes through the hayfield. The dogs and I will have to walk through the tractor tracks.


He lowered the bush-hog once he was in the woods. The trail that goes to Polecat Creek is so lush and green:


Surely our hay will be cut and baled next week.
~

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2 Comments:

Blogger CountryDew said...

We have been cutting hay, too. One big field left, so now we need a few days of a dry forecast.

8:31 AM  
Blogger Sweet Virginia Breeze said...

I love the smell of fresh cut hay. I've been driving with my car windows down and breathing in deeply since hay season began.
The fields around my house need to be cut. My cousin cuts and bales it for his cows, since we don't have a tractor.

5:04 PM  

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