Bale Wars

I'll be the first to admit that I'm out of shape. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. So when I tackled the round bale, I'm not sure who won.

We were late getting home so I was doing chores in the dark. I ran out of the big squares and had to go with big rounds. I can't just plunk a round bale in the drylot because not everyone would get to eat. I could put two out there but those in separate pens still need to be fed.

So instead, I break apart, separate, and divide and conquer. Or so I thought. Usually I can give myself a little break between fighting the bale and tossing hay. But last night I was running late so I didn't get a break. It was after 10pm, the horses were demanding their food, and I was tired. But the bale gave me a workout.

I'm five foot three inches and overweight. The bale is five foot tall on its side so I can unravel it. I was down to just about a day's worth of hay left on the bale. I'll admit, my irritation got the better of me. Luckily it was dark and Mike stayed away. Otherwise he would have heard me swear at it, kick it, jump on it, and in the end, tip it over. Yeah, I know. I'm thirty something having a temper tantrum because of a hay bale. Least to say, the bale got the better of me. Not exactly a proud moment but I'll admit it anyway just to give you a chuckle.

I think tonight will be the end of that bale and we'll be on to yet another bale. I wonder who will win with that bale?