piling bales to be picked up OR picking up bales isnt hard work.. I sort of enjoy being in the field at dusk doing it. The difficult part for me is it's done on a week day AFTER I get home from work and I am the only one stacking.. I'm already tired from work..
The stacking in a barn is shit.. I hate that.. It's dry, very dusty and hot.. I go home blowing hay dust out of my nose for days.. .black snot..
I recall one day I did hay bales after work in late sept.. My wife drove the big dually with the large flat deck and I sat on the back and picked bales alone.. in-laws were busy doing other things. Anyways, as I was picking bales I started to feel the shits coming back.. we (wife and I) were picking bales in a way back field.. no bathroom in site. I was going to shit my pants.. I don't mind shitting outside, but with those liquid shits I needed asswipes.. I told the wife and we frantically tried to find something in her dads truck to wipe.. Finally found a box of kleenex.. White ones... IT was getting close to shitting myself so as soon as I found the napkins I put my back against the tail end of the trailer and shit my brains out.. Wiped with kleenex.. Obviously due to the liquid shits I had to use lots of kleenex.. When I had finished I stood up and realzied I had a massive liquid shit and made a 2 foot pile of kleenex on the top of a hill in a fresh cut hay field... You could see the white mound of napkins from space lol...
I told the wife surely her dad will take a run back to the field tomorrow to check to make we got all the piles and will see a huge white thing on the hill and want to figure out what it is.. but hey, thats what you get for free labour
Lol, Jesus. That story made me laugh.
we had a shelter with a roof and no walls to stack the bales.
Sometimes in the summer with straw we would find snow in between the bales in like July. And could throw a few snowballs.
The second cut was always right when we went back to school. So after work or on the weekends.
Usually i during year end tests at school, we would be repairing fences and other work every night. Work till dusk like 10 pm and do our homework before bed at 11. It’s tough to do homework when you are tired.
The mosquitos were relentless. Especially when you were raking the hay, open tractor.
I learned a great work ethic from my dad, but he treated us like slave labour. 8am-11 pm one 1/2 hour lunch. You had to shit you did it in the bush, because you’d take too long going to the house. And when it would get dark, my brother and I would say, we gotta quit it’s dark, he’d say we were weak, and even the old man could outlast us.
I remember when my curfew finally ended. I was 18, we were using the trike with a chain to tear stucco off the old farm house, working on it all day, so at 8 pm, my buddies drop by to pick me up to go out, my dad runs outside, says hey help out you could get it all done in one day. So we worked on it till 9:30, only one smaller end wall left. Well my curfew was midnight (don’t be 2 minutes late or you are grounded). So 9:30 we are 30 minutes out of Sherwood park, we want to go, my dad gets all pissed, saying we could have it done before dark, another hour.
I say well no point in going out for an hour then, my dad get angrier and says, fine then go, I don’t care when you get home then, do what you want.
I came home at 3 am. My dad was pissed I was out that late, but my mom told him that he didn’t care what time I stayed out till. That was the end of my curfew. Btw, I was working and paying rent.