The writing prompt this week at A thousand words... and then some is Harvest.
At the moment where I live, people are starting to harvest their grass. I am not sure which are hay, and then covered, which are covered silage, and some are uncovered round bales. Last year I heard they made a lot of money. Also last year watering was involved. Yes, perhaps a shock to some, I think it is to me too. Anyway, maybe that comes later in the year.
However thinking about it more, harvest to me, the child in me, is harvesting grapes, tobacco, I have had lots of experiences with harvesting.
Around this place (which I have limited experience) the semi trailers drive into the large paddocks to collect the bales.
At home on the farm of my childhood it was the oldfashioned bales with two strings on them. The ones we loaded on the trailer on my weekends, and set off in the frost in the back of the "ute" actually it wasn't, not sure what it was actually called. Morning tea was always offered at the end of these big feed outs. My hosts driving the "ute" my Dad and my uncle, and my cousin came along too when we were sitting in the back. The trick was to stay out of the wind.
My grape picking was with my Nana. My reward for that her wholemeal sandwiches, nice bread, and nice butter. I think maybe on that occasion I had one of my favourite sandwiches at her house, invented by my uncles, raisins (large sticky ones) with honey and chopped walnuts.
Tobacco was my joy. The children, and there were a few from the share farmers and our family, were used in a chain gang to reach the outer tobacco kiln. Our reward black hands and a feed of watermelon. I particularly liked the ride home from the paddock (same trailer?) with the hessian wrapped tobacco and the watermelons in their own section!
Another joy was seeing my other uncle's maize bin. What did he use the maize for? I think for "free" chook food.