I love the hustle and bustle of harvest. If you discount the fact that you spend about fifteen hours a day, itching and sticking to vinyl seats that you have to peel yourself off of, harvest could be one of my favourite times of the year. Unfortunately those two things don’t help endear itself to me. Well, the itchiness more than anything.
I love the urgent calls over the two-way: ‘Truck due in twenty minutes.’ Or ‘This sections is yielding really well.’ Today I heard the boss saying that there was a section that looked like the kangaroos had used for both their living room and kitchen! I’m think that the barley must have been fairly flat and non-existent in that small patch.
I enjoy looking at the vividness of the golden barley stubbles against the blue sky and the green of the header. And I take great pleasure in knowing as soon as we’ve finished the paddock, sheep or cattle will be in them, grazing on the wayward grains that have somehow slipped through the header and on to the ground. It’s great feed for them.
We have finished harvesting our canola with a return per hectare that left us quite stunned it was so good!
Our barley is swathed and we’ve decided to have a go at direct heading the last paddock of barley, which is what we’re doing today. I’ve been on shifting duty – shifting silos from one place to another, moving augers and taking samples to the bin, to check if the moisture is low enough for us to start.
I’m waiting for Hayden to get home from school. I know the minute he does, he’ll be entrenched in the little seat along side the header driver (his dad aka The Boss) and won’t shift until I insist he comes and does his homework!
Rochelle on the other hand, will be just as happy walking Rocket and practising her basketball shots for a carnival on the weekend.