This morning, by habit, I woke at the usual Monday AM hour and rolled over. My groggy brain somehow remembered that today is Labor Day, a Congressional gift to hard-working Americans in 1894, and I rolled back over and snoozed another hour. (Okay, I didn’t actually pull the year 1894 out of my groggy morning brain, but I did look it up later.)
Labor Day on the farm is an interesting mix of work and play. Of course, no school means no school work! But this morning, The Farmer of My Dreams (also known as my husband, Mark, or TFoMD) informed the kids that a wagon of hay must be unloaded into the haymow right away. As they backed the wagon into the barn, one piece of equipment was obviously missing. The hay elevator. Now, for those who aren’t farm-savvy, the hay elevator is a cool conveyor that moves the heavy bales of green hay (and they are heavy… just ask one of the two kids who are lying on their backs panting right about now.)
“It’s only one the load,” TFoMD informed the kids. “No need to drag out the elevator. We can throw it up into the mow.” Moaning and groaning could be heard across the countryside.
But , they went to work and about an hour later the deed was done. The wagon was empty. The mow was a little fuller. The workers were sweaty and exhausted, but filled with the sense of accomplishment brought on by hard, physical labor. At least that’s what TFoMD says.
My labor this morning? I took these pictures. It was hard work. I’m tuckered out.