It's hay making season and unfortunately I've managed to be in the countryside at the same time. Luckily it was only 190 hay bales that needed to be picked up from a field, loaded onto a trailer, taken off the trailer and place into a barn.
I hate hay baling. It's heavy manual labour, I've done it for years and yet I've never been paid. Oh the joys of growing up on a tiny farm. A tiny farm that still isn't mechanised really.
It's been restful, slightly more tense because my brother has his exams, I have to work on a re-write of the book and my mother is talking about breaking up with her live-in boyfriend.
I can manage but only with the help of gin.
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