Hay

Psalm 18: 1-6

I wasn’t much of a country boy. I was raised in the city and I enjoyed the hustle and bustle of people boarding buses, the downtown department stores, and what I thought was some incredible architecture. My mother didn’t drive a car. She didn’t need to. She knew how to ride the buses in Detroit and that was our transportation. I enjoyed taking trips with her and my brothers. We traveled throughout the city with her as she went from one appointment to another. We usually got milkshakes at the department store’s soda fountain when she went shopping with our aunt, her sister. I remember it being one of the things that I enjoyed most about our excursions. So in much latter years, working for the Detroit Medical Center, and knowing how to ride the buses, I often took the Woodward bus to Hudson’s downtown store. The hustle and bustle, especially around Christmas, brought back good memories. I could get a bite to eat in Hudson’s cafeteria which always had something good to eat. It was grilled cheese and tomato soup for me. It cost me just over a dollar.

In latter years my father taught me how to fish, and I was permanently hooked on that. It’s one of my favorite things to do to this day. However, I never spent that much time on the farms. I received some exposure to farmers when I was asked to ride along with the Michigan State University Agriculture extension agents. The farmer was having a problem with drainage and they set out to figure out what could be done. It was interesting. Not much later, our school principal informed me that a local farmer wanted to donate straw to our Horticulture program. I believed I could incorporate it into the soil when the garden was plowed and tilled. I made the necessary arrangements to pick it up. One of our maintenance mechanics volunteered to drive our big stake dump truck to get it with me.

Upon arrival at the farm we were greeted by the farmer who immediately wanted to know who the inmate was. He looked kind of disappointed when I informed him we were civilian workers at the prison. I pointed out that I was a vocational teacher and this is one of our maintenance mechanics. He told me the straw was in the barn and we could pull the truck it but would have to load it ourselves. We pulled into the barn next to the straw and the maintenance mechanic thought it would be better to get the green straw. I never saw green straw before but as I thought about it I believed him to be correct. It looked a lot like clover and winter rye. I was using both in the garden as cover crops. I loaded about 20 bales. We left the farm not seeing anyone but as we approached the prison maintenance office the manager came out laughing at us. He told us the farmer called and wanted 5 dollars a bale for the hay. Only the straw was free. Wow, WTF? He couldn’t stop laughing at us.

I looked at our maintenance mechanic and said “so much for this looking better! It’s hay damn it.” He looked at me and said, “what class are you teaching?” He made his point. I couldn’t stop laughing. “This isn’t the first asinine thing I’ve done in my life and I’m sure it won’t be my last,” I said. We both started laughing again. On to the farm to make it right. I informed our mechanic that if the farmer asks what class I’m teaching tell him anything but horticulture. We both started laughing again. The farmer was waiting for us as we entered the farm. ” You sure you don’t want the hay ,” he asked? laughing, I shook my head no. I apologized for the inconvenience and we pulled back into the barn so I could make the switch. The hay would be sold to horse farms in the area and I could tell he was glad I brought it back. Removing 20 bundles of straw would make room for the hay he was now bundling in his fields. I thanked him again for his patience and the straw. He asked that I keep him informed on the progress of our garden at the prison. I told him I would as we said our goodbyes. This would be one of many adventures I had with our maintenance mechanic. He was a big help with our greenhouse and over all support of my class.

Prison Chronicles to be continued …

Praying for the safe return of the Israelis held hostage by Hamas.