Spinning Straw into Gold

The effects of a dry summer

It was Rumplestiltskin who famously did it. Spun straw into gold. But around here at present almost anyone can do it; anyone that is with a paddock of hay. As it turns out, that’s not many people at all. And yes, hay, not straw. Straw is the cut stubble after a grain crop has been harvested. Hay is the entire plant with the seed heads intact. Which means hay is more nutritious than straw. Straw is basically cellulose, rough fibre. Hay is the stuff that horses like to eat. In the case of my two, it’s the stuff they eat a LOT of because this summer has been very dry here so the summer grasses have all well and truly died off. Nothing is growing in the paddocks. There is not much pasture left to graze. This is when hay comes into its own. But summer this year, as well as being especially dry, came early and followed a dry spring. This means there is not as much hay around as there would normally be and what is around is pricey. Rare and expensive. Hence my opening remark about spinning it in to gold.

I had two farmers whom I bought hay from last year. When I contacted them (smugly, thinking I was all set because I knew who to get hay from), they told me they didn’t have any available. It had already been sold. My smugness evaporated. Others it seemed had been considerably smarter than me and, realising the likely problems with hay supply, had purchased early. A case of not who you know but what you know, and more importantly, what you do.

With the hay I had on hand rapidly dwindling, no rain forecast and nothing growing in the paddock, I began asking around. Somewhat frantically. I managed to get hold of some small square bales of good quality meadow hay. Rob and I picked them up in the ute, the load precariously balanced. Fourteen bales. At a bale a day that bought me two weeks to find more. And $10 for each small square bale gave me incentive to look hard. Finally, I found some big rolls of hay. “No,” the seller told me, “they will not fit on the back of a dual cab ute.” I asked if maybe they could deliver them. “Yes, but only if you get 18.” I did not want 18 big rolls. Besides, the semi trailer to deliver them would have no chance of negotiating our driveway. Panicking, I organised to get another 30 of the small square bales delivered from the other guy. That would give me another month. Then in a casual conversation with a farmer friend, I discovered he had a big trailer, and yes, we could borrow it.

So it came to be that Rob and I borrowed the trailer and took it to get a couple of the big rolls. Seriously big rolls. Six hundred kilograms each. Equivalent to 30 of the small squares. (But much cheaper to buy in the bulk quantity.) So with two of them, plus the small squares, I would have three months’ supply. Surely in that time it must start raining and the grass would grow. 

The seller carefully placed the big rolls on the trailer, using a rather large tractor to lift and manourvre them. The ute pulled the load home easily. So far, so good.

“We’ll put one in the paddock and one in the shed,” I said. We do not have a tractor. With the trailer lined up so the bale would roll off into the shed, Rob and I attempted to move it. All six hundred kilos of it. We strained. We pushed. We put our feet against it and our backs against the other bale and heaved with every ounce of strength we could muster between us. The bale did not move an inch. Not even half an inch. We got a crow bar and tried to lever it. It remained resolutely immovable. We looked for something to tie a strap onto so we could pull it off into the shed. There was nothing. So we moved the trailer and tied a big strap around the bale and around a big tree. Rob then drove off as I guided him. The bale rolled off and crashed against the tree. (It’s fortunate that the trees around here are very big!)

We drove into the paddock to unload the second bale. Same thing. No way we could budge it on our own. So again, we tied a strap around it and around a tree. It came off as Rob drove the ute away. The plan was to push it up on to its end so we could take the plastic wrap off. No way. We couldn’t even move it that much. So I cut the exposed plastic wrap off, covered it with the hay net and ring (to stop the horses wasting the hay - it’s valuable you know!), and called it job done.

How are we going to get the second roll into the paddock when the horses have eaten the first one, I hear you ask. I have absolutely no idea. I suspect we won’t be able to. I suspect I will have to cut the plastic wrap off where it is and either pull some hay off for the horses and feed it out that way, or let them eat it where it is, rolled up against the tree where it landed when we finally got it off the trailer. One thing I do know, there is no way I am wasting a single piece of this hay. It’s worth gold!

See you outside,

Jill

They are eating like horses and are getting through the first hay roll apace. I will have to work something out with the second one in the next few weeks!