Today I unloaded 40 bales of hay. As that is the birthday I am quickly approaching, I can feel it in the base of my back. Woof.
Small bales of hay are sold in 21-bale packs. Usually, hay sellers won't deliver just a single bundle or two; they want clients who need the volume that makes the juice worth the squeeze. But I have a neighbor friend with cows and donkeys who needs larger quantities, so I added a few bundles to her order.
This afternoon, I hitched my little knock-around trailer to the truck to run to her house to pick up our hay. I hauled my trusty little trailer through the snow, mud, and down the road.
I bought this little red trailer at an auction a few years ago. It was from one of the "government surplus" auctions, where they sell the leftovers or equipment the local government no longer needs or wants. It has some rust spots and could probably use some new tires and a paint job. But my little trailer still has plenty of usefulness left in it, and there's always something to haul around here.
My neighbor's husband used his tractor to delicately drop the over 1500 pounds of hay onto my little red trailer, and I was off - slowly - to keep it all balanced.
When I got home, my husband, Mark, who had been diligently working on his "continuing education" for work, took a break and backed the trailer up to my shed to unload. I looked at the tower of hay stacked on my little red trailer.
I remembered the day I bid on that trailer. I love the thrill of an auction - when my bidder number is declared the "winner," my heart beats a little faster.
I always surf the "government surplus" auctions because they often have one-off items that are useful around a small urban farm. There are ride-on mowers, utility vehicles with blades for plowing snow, or even a red custom trailer.
With the ramp on the back and all the places to tie down, I assume that my trailer was once used to haul mowers and equipment for park and open space maintenance. But, its structure lends itself to picking up hay, bopping around the neighborhood, picking up Christmas trees for the goats, and even the occasional hay ride.
I got the trailer for a steal.
My rule for auctions is to set a number in my head - and once my desired lot exceeds that number - I walk away. The danger of auctions is to get too emotional during bidding.
This little trailer never hit my top-end number - still hundreds of dollars cheaper than the newer versions without all the character and add-ons; we were thrilled the day we picked it up. Our little red trailer has more than paid for itself with tasks around here.
Once it was loaded up, I sent a picture of it to a girlfriend - here was my work for the afternoon.
Something about the steady drumbeat of hard work, like unloading hay, feeds my soul. There is no room for phones, Twitter, or much more thought than stacking bales - 31 . . 32 . . 33. the work is hard enough that it requires all your body, but it's easy enough to occupy a different world in your mind.
Once done, stacking hay feels like an actual accomplishment. Forty bales for the shed and two for the goats - it's a productive afternoon.
Since we got goats, the price of hay has almost doubled. These spikes are happening across the board - those bales of hay that were $6-8 are now $12-16. A 50-pound bag of layer feed that cost me $9 four years ago is now almost $20. Everything related to keeping animals is skyrocketing.
The increased costs of gas, labor, a few drought years, regulations, disease, and on and on - but the cost of food and animal inputs are going wild.
So, it was as I was texting my friend the picture of my unloading job ahead I realized - the hay on my trailer cost more than the trailer itself. Yikes.
It's time to trim the herd of goats to the bone; with hay prices, there's no room for any hangers-on. Luckily, my word of the year is "discernment," and I am looking to cut back and invest in smaller but better.
I'm a hobbyist - I make small-batch cheese for myself and my friends - but what if this was my entire living?
The price of hay is skyrocketing, but my little red trailer is still here to haul the load. Maybe this year I'll finally paint her.