Chapter 12 - Haymaking Days 1915
It was still dark, but the sky was showing a faint promise of dawn as Esther stirred, and, half asleep, thought, what’s going to happen today?
And then she was wide awake as she remembered “Today’s haymaking.”
They say a Waikato Farmer’s wife is judged by how she gets on at haymaking time, she thought as she began to consider the preparations she had made. The bread she had taken out of the oven just before she went to bed had felt crisp and light. Sometimes it wasn’t and she was grateful that it was eaten without grumbling when it wasn’t up to standard. She gave a little chuckle as she remembered the day when the dough just wouldn’t rise. In despair she buried the failure in the garden. At tea time, Fred had come in carrying this white spongy thing on their best serving plate offering her ‘a puff-ball fit for a queen’.
The butter was freshly made too. Sam had churned some extra for her. Usually she tried to do that job herself, because the men were so tired at night, but they both often found little things to do for her.
“My house isn’t as grand as some of my friends,” thought Esther, but the kindness and consideration and fun we have together is worth more than the softest carpet. Thinking of her husband’s help, Esther decided, “I’ll get up and make morning tea,” but just at that moment the alarm shrilled its warning and the young farmer turned over, and half asleep, struck a match to light the candle.
Still planning her day, Esther only half heard the wood go into the stove and the kettle begin to sing, but she was wide awake when her husband brought in a cup of steaming tea with a slice of bread and golden syrup. It was almost dawn now, with the light haze that showed it would be a fine day, and Esther was soon out of bed to. While the men milked the cows, fed the calves and the pigs, Esther fed the hens, cooked the porridge and prepared the oatmeal drink for the hayfield. The bacon & eggs did not go on till the men were sitting at the table. “I’ve cut some extra wood if you need it,” Fred told her. He had filled the wood box by the stove the night before. A roast dinner used such a lot of firewood and Esther had wondered what she would do if there wasn’t enough cut. In the last ‘Exporter’ they had read the story of one farmer’s wife who had put the axe on the breakfast table because her husband had not cut any wood for a week. “I couldn’t do that,” Esther thought, but was very glad indeed that Fred thought it was a man’s task to see that there was enough firewood cut to do the cooking.
Immediately breakfast was over, the men picked up the billy of oatmeal drink and taking their pitchforks, went on down to the hay paddock. The rest of the gang arrived about 10 o’clock. In the Waikato of that day, all the farmers banded together into groups to share the work of harvesting. There were four farms in this group which meant about ten men. The Cunninghams arrived on their ponies each carrying his pitchfork, but Mr McMullan had brought his konaki to help during the day.
As she put the butter and jam on the warm, light scones she had just taken from the oven, Esther felt glad she had been able to make so much jam before her wedding. “I don’t know where I’ll get plums in the Waikato,” she thought. Our young trees will have some on, of course, and there are a lot of plums in the Woodlands orchards. We might be able to get some there. But all the time she was thinking, her busy fingers were packing the warm scones into a basket and tucking a white serviette around them. The billy of hot, sweet tea were ready too, when Sam came to help carry the morning tea down to the paddock. She checked on the roast which had gone into the oven immediately the scones were done. All farmers killed their own meat, of course, but she and Fred had studied her cookery book carefully where it explained how to cut up a sheep, and he cut the joints in the easiest way to handle. What a difference it made to the cook if her man knew the right way to cut it up.
As they went out the door Esther remarked, “Isn’t it lucky that this peat wood burns slowly. If I hurry it will still be going when I get back, and there’s enough manuka to boost it up. The men worked in pairs, tossing the hay and leaving it in windrows. It was hot work, but for the men who did not see each other often, haymaking was a time for pleasant chat. The crop was light. Fertilizer was difficult to get now, and the war had taken the enthusiastic, young scientists who had begun to study the management of Waikato peat. By lunch time all the hay had been turned. At twelve o’clock the men trooped up to the house and after a quick wash, filed into the kitchen where the sparkling silver set on a snowy white table cloth, looked inviting to the hungry men (though the kitchen was hotter than it had been in field). The sizzling roast was set on a great platter in front of Fred at the head of the table, and bowls of green peas and new potatoes were heaped into the serving dishes. When all the men were seated, they looked at Fred and every head bowed as he said the blessing. “For what we are about to receive, lord make us truly thankful. Amen.”
Then news was exchanged as each man’s plate was piled high. A delicious apple pie with the pastry crisp and brown followed the first course. There was thick, yellow cream for it also. Esther knew how much her husband appreciated her apple pies, but it wasn’t so easy when there was only one oven and the meat had to be cooked just right and be just hot enough too! It was a pleasant hour for the men and then back to the field. Now the hay was ready to be pushed into cocks; little heaps of hay that would turn a light rain if it was necessary. This day it wasn’t. The hot, drying sun had worked well to, and before afternoon tea time the men began carrying the hay to where the stack was to be built. Cocks were put onto the sledge and konaki and the hay was then pitched up onto the stack. Lucky the man long legs and arms. Fred and Bill on the stack built carefully, packing the corners down firmly. A haystack had to stand and withstand the autumn storms, so it was an important task to build it well. With laughter and good comradeship the day wore on, till by 4 o’clock a neat stack was standing in the corner of the paddock. “Something accomplished,” quoted Fred, but all the workers were glad to see the afternoon tea coming; more fresh scones and plum jam, sandwiches and rich fruit cake as well as two billies of tea.
“My place tomorrow, men,” said Bill as they all prepared to go home to their own cowsheds. Fred and Sam can thatch this in their spare time. “Spare time,” exclaimed Sam “What’s that? We don’t see any round here. But we’ll be there tomorrow. This fine spell is too good to last, but the more that’s done before it rains, the better.”
