This morning I knew that the hay man was coming. A sort of spring cleaning had to take place. Before he got here, there had to be a place for the hay.
A barn is a natural place, and as we all know nature abhors a vacuum. So empty space, say space that once held hay that has all been eaten, fills up with other things. Things like a cart, a bright orange mini horse blankets, a dozen or so mini horse halters that don't fit anyone, baling twine, garbage, and stuff.
Stuff like this:
And this:
And this:
With all the stuff on the lawn now, it is time to sweep and clean the pallets. Collecting the old hay pallets, pulling all the hay that had worked it way down between the boards, and settled on the bottom is lots of . . . fun? The part that touched the cement floor has molded, mice have built nests in it and spiders have made webs. What looks like a little bit of hay packed into the pallets turns out to be a big fluffy mess that I then have to load and move out of the barn.
Hauling, throwing, scraping, sweeping. Coughing, hacking, wheezing, sneezing.
At least I have John to help me out:
Finally! Hay! 10 big bales! That should last us a few months!
But it is all worth it if they are happy right?
