Post
by timmy » Wed Sep 22, 2010 9:15 am
Mr. Grewal, thanks for your picture. It looks like your field really produces -- looking good! I can certainly see why you like driving your Green Machine!
XL: I recall the baling quite well: because of the old hooks, the method of packing bales on the wagons was set in stone even in the elevator days: Bales were laid on the wagon in groups of 5. One bale was placed longitudinally, and then two bales latitudinally on each side. 4 groups of bales were laid on the bottom layer like this. The next layer would have 5 bales, all laid longitudinally, in 4 groups. On the 3rd layer, the 1st layer's pattern was repeated. The 4th layer was a repeat of the 2nd.
This way, the hooks went into the 5 longitudinal bales first, and then the bottom layer, and they would stay together as they were hoisted. I was too young to work in the mow when this was used; I only baled with an elevator sending bales to the mow.
Actually, a layer of bales forming the 5th layer were all latitudinal, in groups of 4. This layer formed a "tie" for the bales underneath. Because a corner of layers 3 and 4 on the left side was missing (that's where the baler chute was), each wagon would hold about 90 bales.
I do recall that it took us 20 minutes to unload a wagon, with a 10 minute break before the next wagon came in. I recall that I would drink water for those entire 10 minutes, as much as I could, and would do it all again 30 after the next wagon. When I got older, I worked behind the baler, the hardest of the jobs in making hay.
I believe that you are right, kids would profit from a stint on the farm. Most folks nowadays have no idea about cows, pigs, chickens, sheep, or other forms of livestock. If a bomb hit, most people would be as helpless as drones. However, I do think you did right by your daughter. It's my belief that there is something most noble about wresting a living from the land. Not just anyone can do it, and do it well.
Let me close this post with a Montana story. My Dad was great buddies with a rancher, and this fellow (like many Montana ranchers) was quite a joker. One day I asked him: "Bill, I understand bees are considered livestock in Montana."
Now, if there's one thing a rancher will take pride in, it's knowing his business forward and backward.
"Yes, yes, I believe you are right," Bill said. "Bees are livestock here in Montana."
"Well, I'm puzzled then, I said. "When you are roping them, they have 6 legs, not 4. How many legs do you have to have tied off to consider them down?"
By this time, Bill was squinting at me with a decided frown. (In calf roping contests at rodeos, which simulate actual calf roping for branding and castration purposes, 3 of the calf's legs have to be considered tied for the roping contest clock to stop.)
I went on: "And when you've got them tied, where do you put the brand on the little devils?"
"You're kind of a smart ass, aren't you?" Bill said, glaring at me.
Unfortunately, Bill never had the pleasure of paying me back with some practical joke, as he died of a heart attack shortly afterwards.
-- Tue Sep 21, 2010 21:56 --
I would like to add that my own interest in farming is much more about grain than animals. The three staples of the world, wheat, rice, and maize, are actually fairly closely related. I especially love maize. The most amazing changes occurred in maize from only a few base pair changes in the plants chromosomes -- those ancient Native Americans must have really been farming geniuses to come up with maize from the original teosinte.
Yes, my love of maize does have to do with my farming roots, and it surely is related to being a New Mexican. I do love maize tortillas! I also love knowing where they come from.
“Fanaticism consists of redoubling your efforts when you have forgotten your aim.”
saying in the British Royal Navy
