June 30, 2023
There was a time when every livestock farmer made their own hay. The fields were cut by hand using a scythe and the loose hay was collected and stored for winter feeding. The “sickle bar” was invented in the 1880’s and quickly replaced the scythe. The mechanized cutter was pulled behind draft horses and later by tractors.
Once the hay was cut, it was raked into “windrows” and left for a couple days to dry. It was then loaded into a hay wagon and stored either in a barn, or in a haystack outside, depending on the climate. The haystacks, or mounds, were traditionally called “hay mows” (rhymes with cow) and in New England were stored in the upper floors of the barn which confusingly, also became known as the “hay mow” (still rhymes with cow).
Balers were invented in 1930 and by the 1950’s most farmers either owned a baler or bought hay from someone else who did. The bales were easier to transport than loose hay and took up much less space when stored in the mow. Since the 1980’s, large round bales which are wrapped in plastic and can be left outside, have replaced much of the demand for the smaller bales.
Every year Anne and I buy thousands of dollars’ worth of hay - and due to ongoing regional droughts, the price keeps going up. Hill-Stead Museum, where we graze our sheep, spends thousands of dollars, as well, to have their fields mowed. This year we'd like to make our own hay from the Museum's fields and to that end, we are learning everything there is to know about “putting up loose hay” and will mow some of the Museum’s fields for our sheep. A baler is too expensive to justify and too big to easily store, so, we’ll buy a sickle bar and hay rake for our tractor, and will, once again, take our farming back a hundred years, or so, in time.
Soon, we’ll sound like a couple of “old school” Yankee farmers when we say to one another “it’s time to mow (rhymes with go) and put the mow (rhymes with cow) in the mow(cow). Or we could just cheat and say, “Let’s cut the hay and stick it in the hay loft.”
There is a feeling of synchronicity to farming the property the way it was before it became a historic museum. It’s a whole lot of hard work, but it makes sense, and it feels right.