a year ago,
after first cutting,
i did a tribute to my
on high button shoe.
i wrote of the memories
i have of doing hay with my grandpa.
i spoke of how he never called me to say
"are you ready"
i would just hear the tractor start, i would just know
and i would wait until the tractor, hay baler and wagon
pulled into the yard.
it was always the hottest day of the week
when the hay was ready.
i was pretty stubborn, at times,
if i was going to be out in the sun...i was going to get a tan...
i usually baled hay in a halter top, which left me with
lots of scraps and scratches... lots of chafe sticking
to my sweaty body...
i love those memories that came back,
at this time.
we no longer do the hay.
there is no longer a baler
that shoots the bale to you.
this baler is round and it just leaves the bale in the field.
but never the less...
of the field being cut,
the baling process.
it's all right here...
in my mind.
in my heart.
welcome to coffee hour.
welcome to this Sunday morning.