It's been raining off and on for the first month and a half of my life as a farmhand.  This means that we haven't been able to do the main thing I came up here to do: throw hay.

This week, however, we had a solid 5 days of sunshine with only a few scattered showers.  That meant that for 5 days, we worked like mad to get the hay in.  We drove tractors, tossed hay, loaded hay, unloaded hay, stacked hay and generally did everything conceivably possible with hay short of eating it ourselves.  In short, we made hay while the sun shone.

I really want to talk about the process of making hay.  Unfortunately, it's actually pretty boring.  It's alot of hard work and riding on tractors.  Someday, I will finish the infographic I'm designing in a perhaps futile attempt to transform haying into a fascinating conversation topic.  Today is not this day.  Today, I give you pictures of tractors, sheep and a cat.

Up top is the biggest tractor, hooked up to a baler.  This gather up hay and spits out square bales, already tied.  It actually has a catapult on the back which launches the bale into a trailer.  The dude attaching a new hydraulic hose to the gripping arms is Bill, my boss.  Below is a gripping arm tractor in action, lifting round bales.  Round bales weigh about a ton. 

So in the mornings and evenings on a farm, you have to do "chores."  This means the everyday feeding and watering of the animals.  I do the morning chores for Anne, whose farm I live at.  This week I'm also doing the chores for her sister's farm up the road.  It's pretty enjoyable, because the animals are always excited and the little goats are pretty darn cute.  Even though I haven't been the one to feed them in a while, the goats and sheep at Anne's always start towards me expectantly, only to stand there dejected when all I have in my bucket is water.  

Yesterday, however, the sheep's attention was captured by something that wasn't food or someone who might possibly have brought food ever in their short lives.  The sheep were fascinated by Hobbes, the barn cat.  I have no idea why, but the went up and just touched their noses to him.  Went up and just sorta...tap.  Almost a nuzzle but not quite.  This whole thing made me realize, I really have no idea what is going on with sheep.  I thought I got it.  Sheep are sheep, they eat hay and most plants but not prickers and nettles.  They have a four chambered stomachs.  They follow the guy with the bucket.  A dead sheep is pretty heavy and when the live ones are hungry, they are a resounding chorus of meeeeehhhhhh.  

But this list does not explain why the sheep seem to worship Hobbes like a tiny god.