File under stuff I didn't expect
Ok...so living on a farm involves a lot of lifting and sweating and grunting and other definitively manly activities. One source of macho-trips that I was not entirely prepared for: moving hay bales. As an unrepentant city boy I thought, "It's hay. There's no way it could be all that heavy, even those big ol rolls of it." Turns out, those big ol' rolls (or round bales as some might call em) weigh in excess of half a ton. There's something kinda exhilarating in realizing that you're moving half a ton with pure brute force. Admittedly, rolling is not the same as lifting or even dragging, but you're still providing the energy to start a half ton moving, and even more impressive...stop it.

Of course, it's also a lot of really exhausting work to push half a ton around. Last night, after moving one of these behemoths into the pasture and setting it upright, I was understandably a little on the tuckered side. This caused me to declare, "You know, the next time some chick offers me a roll in the hay, I'm gonna have to pass."

Not to be outdone, golemkennels quickly pointed out that, no, first I'd ask what the forage quality* was. It bothers me that she's right.


* as an example, the forage quality of the stuff we were moving last night isn't all that great. This means that it's got lots of other crap besides grass, and most of that crap has thorn or burrs or something unpleasant. The end result is that not only are you pushing around a lopsided, half ton ball, but it is also a lopsided, half ton ball of bees and mosquitoes.