Thursday, July 3, 2008


Time to buy hay of my least favorite things.  Well, as long as I can get it delivered, it's not so bad.  But for many years in my youth, my family would buy hay in the field.  What that means is that we would all pile into an ancient pickup and drive down to the location where the hay had just been baled.  Mind you, this is only done on a day of record-breaking heat.  So we'd get out and while my parents and brother picked up bales and brought them to the pickup, I (as the smallest family member) would be inside the back of the vehicle, sliding and stacking the bales.  Because, naturally, the pickup has a canopy on the back.  So not only is it hot, it's literally oven-like.  And it would take at least a few trips to get all the bales back up to the barn.  Oh, how I do not miss it.  Oh, how willingly I pay delivery charges.  

But my mare is worth it.  She's my baby and she's the kind of baby you don't have to start a college fund for.  Three tons of hay a year is pretty darn cheap compared to college.

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