David Weeks said he would show up at 8:30 a.m. with 30 bales of his wonderful first cut hay. We have 40 more coming in the next weeks, 30 more first cut and 10-second cut.

He pulled into the driveway at 8:30 p.m.

The weather has been a nightmare for the hay farmers this Spring – the complete opposite of their suffering counterparts in the West and Southwest.

David, who has devoted most of his life to developing nourishing and digestible hay, jumped at the forecast of a dry morning and backed up to the barn.

I’m not sure yet what the bales cost; Ed said I’ll get an invoice in the mail.

Maria had her combat hay-tossing clothes on, and the way we do it is for David to stay in the back of his truck and toss the hay to Maria, who stakes it.

David is one of the nicest and most thoughtful people I have met up here. He is a well-regarded expert on soil and grass.

He paused between each toss, and I realized he was giving Maria time to catch her breath between bales.

Almost everyone else delivers hay – these are mostly strong young men – toss it rapid-fire, one after another. I am no longer allowed to stay hay, the cardiologist forbids it, and Maria threatened to chop my arm off if I tried.

Don’t mess with me, she advised. I didn’t.

(Her friend Emily has come over to work with Maria on a creative art-making day, the two of them are working together on a fabric/painting projected.)

I love their friendship, and it lifts my heart to see these two making art together; they beautifully support one another. I love making lunch for them; they can focus on making their art together.

I’m making a cauliflower pizza with red pepper, squash, kale, and mozzarella cheese. I also went out to buy four freshly-picked ears of corn from Moses Market (not the Amish Moise); I’m catering the event.

Last night, Ed Bullock delivered one and a half-cords of wood, enough, I think, to get us through next winter. That wood costs $285 and will need some drying before it goes into the shed. Ed says the mud has been horrible; he keeps getting stuck out in the woods.

When the remaining 30 bales of hay come, we’ll be all set, ready for printer in the last week of July. I’m proud of that.

As the official quartermaster of Bedlam Farm, it’s my job to get the hay and firewood into the shed and the barn before the cold weather comes. My motto is the sooner, the better.

It is the most wonderful feeling to have a barn filled with hay and a woodshed with wood before October.

Climate change has messed up the harvesting of wood and the growing and cutting of hay. All of this stuff will be twice as expensive in September and much harder to get than it is now.

Maria has stacked every single piece of wood so far; she threatens to call some Amish kids in to help. But she loves stacking wood; it gives her some atavistic pleasure.

This round may soften her stance a bit.

This morning, I went up to the Miller farm to drop off some supplies to gather Amish church members on  Friday for one of the last legs before the barn raising on the 28th.

I talked with Moise; briefly, he’s building an outer wall and rise before the raising. His son Joe beat me once in thumb wrestling; I beat him once. Little Sarah did not get to beat me at thumb resting this morning.

I’ll bring ice cubes later; we’ll see what happens.