So we headed over to Hueston Woods State Park to the beach on man made Acton Lake.

I guess it was a classy place after all.
Now I will share a view from my patented hay-cam, showing exactly what a piece of hay sees right before it is raked or fluffed or molested somehow by this machine.
After the hay is mowed and raked, it is baled. Please note--and this is important--that hay can be baled in large round bales (called round bales) or in smaller square bales (commonly known as square bales). NEITHER KIND IS USED IN HAY RIDES. HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?
We bale our hay mostly in round bales and use this cool hay-wrapper thingy (yes, that is the official name for it) to cover them, saving the hay from the ravages of weather and critters. Also, this machine is really cool for those hard-to-wrap gifts (just kidding).
This year, I invested in very cool green starter kits that included biodegradable containers and really fun dirt pellets that expanded when wet.
If nothing else, Justin and Morgan had a wonderful time making the pellets expand and they did a nice job planing their seeds.
Yes, she is wearing her princess swimming suit. After a long winter, don't all Ohioans spend the early part of May just sitting around in their swim suits waiting for spring? They don't? I need to go talk to my husband about something he told me a long time ago. I'll be right back. Anyway, we planted our seeds in our eco-friendly containers and somehow even managed to take a decent photo of Justin. The biodegradable container proceeded to mold on top of my filing cabinet for a few weeks until the seedlings were just tall and spindly enough that we thought we better plant them.
Tuesday evening we planted our seedlings in pots and in the flower bed. Most of our seeds were flowers, but here you see the apple trees we are attempting to grow with seeds from an apple Justin ate.
I had never seen anything like this. A powerful reminder of the beauty of Mother Nature.
Farm kids have different milestones than other kids. While Suburban-Dwelling kids may mark growing up with the distance from the house they can travel on their bike or the hour at which they must come home for the evening, country kids find different ways to age.
In our family, the rite of passage surrounds our annual spring pig sale--pigs we sell to 4-H'ers to take to county and state fairs. This event includes trucking over 100 pigs to a neighboring fairgrounds in the morning, spending the day washing and bedding them, and then all evening running the auction.
Last year marked the first year Ryan was allowed to leave with the pigs in the morning, spend all day working, help with the auction all evening and stay up for our 11 p.m. thank you dinner to our helpers. Yes, allowed.
Like past years, little sister Morgan spent the afternoon with her grandma, making an appearance at the sale and then heading back for a sleepover at bed time.
Justin didn't spend the whole day working pigs but got to arrive two hours before the sale, help all evening and even go to the late night dinner (he almost made it). See here how excited he was. (Actually, I've never seen a kid with the ability to ruin a photo like this one can.)
Recently, all the professional farmers in the family were either on vacation or off at a pig show (I count my seven year-old son as one of the professionals). By a crazy twist of fate, I was the only person left to be officially in charge of the farm for the day.
So I did what any hardcore farm wife would do when left in charge of the farm--I went shopping. Luckily for me, Husband had retained the services of a real farmer to help with the feeding. My only real job was to make sure that everything was still here when the real farmer came to feed.
After my shopping trip I took the inventory:
Cows. Check.
Road-kill munching farm dog with adorable patch on her eye. Check.
Tractor. Check. Hay bales. Check.
This thing. Check.
NOTE: If you do not want to read about my healthy bowel movement, well too late you just did. I recently became you-better-get-a-colonosco...