Ho-ray for Hay

strawWith the wind having died down and the sun breaking through the clouds today, it was almost a complete reversal of yesterday’s mind-darkening weather. In visiting with a prominent resident today, I mentioned how easily we find moods changing when confronted with unexpected bad weather. I think many of us become more internally anxious about it all but really don’t show it simply in an attempt to appear normal in the midst of it all. I’m sure I got a bit of an internal laugh from this person when I talked about someone wanting me to share some ideas and my refusing, simply because I’ve already been there and done that before. I have no problem giving my opinions or sharing knowledge, but when I find that most listening have already drawn their own conclusions, I consider it both an exercise in futility as well as an insult. Open forums are just that, they are meant to inspire direction and help sort out problems with those in attendance while continually keeping an “open forum” mindset. I said today, “If people would only be courteous enough to listen with an open mind and wait their turn to speak, then we wouldn’t be walking away shaking our heads and wondering why we didn’t save our breath to cool the soup.” Too many of us are get caught up in what I consider “layered conversation”. Layered conversations are when there are two or more people communicating with each other at the same time. When I first encountered it I thought it was funny, but the comic of it soon wore off when it became widely accepted and occurring far more often.

On a lighter more home-spun note, I had a dear client farmer deliver three bales of hay from his farm today to be used to help keep a water line from freezing. I decided to drop them off on my way home so I put down the seats in my SUV and loaded them. With my vehicle warmed while driving, the smell of the hay became more pronounced which invoked memories of my youth. In my mind I could see myself in the hayloft carrying bales of aromatic hay to the drop-down opening for the milk cows in their stanchions. The cows were so funny yet demanding. They would start mooing in hopes they would get their fair share of hay first. As I would open the bales and place sections of them equally for each cow, I’d watch their salivating tongues reaching for mouthfuls. In winter, the body heat from the cows would make a bit of warm mist in the air which caused the place to seem mystical. I know fully why some people who have worked in old fashioned barns with milk cows tell how their most memorable, as well as delightful moments on the farm, took place in the milk barns.
Oh, and I even remember the kitties who always wanted a squirt or two of milk. They’d have more on their faces than in their mouths and seemed to enjoy licking themselves and each other with a vengeance.

Isn’t it funny how simply smelling something inspires memory from many years ago, and indeed some of the most loving. I guess my sense of smell is still intact enough to flip the switch of re-enactment. I’m so glad I had those bales of hay in my vehicle tonight. I can now truly say without doubt, “Ho-ray for hay!”