The Hay House It was about 1957 that we finally got rid of the cows. For years my dad had kept cows and milked them faithfully morning and night, even sold milk for a while when we had two cows. Most of the rest of the time we had old Molly and usually a calf being raised to butcher. We always had real butter, eggs from our own chickens, and as I recall, enough to give away to my grandparents when they would visit every Tuesday. The milk that went sour was fed to the chickens who were just like so many little garbage disposers. But Grandma died and Grandpa didn't want to churn butter, and old Molly got too old for dairying and my mother finally figured out the buying milk for one kid was a lot cheaper than buying cow feed. We had a bunch of hay that year and nothing to do with it, so we went down into the field and put in two fenceposts about 6 feet tall and 8 feet apart. Across the top we put some kind of old 2x4 we had lying around, and we found other old 2x4s to make a frame sort of shaped like a tent, then nailed bean poles between them. Starting at ground level, we pitched on hay just like a thatched roof. The resulting structure was about 16 feet long and about 8 feet wide. There were no lights, of course, and no candles or any sort of flame ever came close to this tinderbox. We kids usually had one barely working flashlight among us. I was an only child, so I welcomed anything that would attract friends to our house. On many a summer night several neighbor boys would show up with blankets or sleeping bags and we would trudge down to the hay house. The open end faced east, toward town, so there was always a little bit of light. If anyone had to go potty, he would gingerly step over the others and go out somewhere in the dark. It rained on us several times, this being western Washington about 30 miles north of Seattle. But inside the hay house we were always dry. It was built on a slight slope and above the high-water mark where the creek overflowed every Spring. The climate in that area is warm in summer and cool in winter for the most part, with only a rare day over 80 or night below 20, so the hay house was usable for a good part of the year. We didn't like to use it when it was raining because of the part where you had to haul your blankets down and back and they would get rather soggy. The cats and dogs enjoyed it whenever a group would sleep there. Usually a couple of the cats would find a warm human to snuggle up to, and old Lad, our collie, would "stand guard" next to the door. (Guarding against what, we never knew. The only thing he would ever chase was a cow.) The hay house stood for three or four years. Each Spring, I would take some fresh hay down there to refurbish the floor thick enough to make a comfortable sleeping area. It was like having a 10x16-foot mattress. I hate to think of all the bugs that probably moved in there. Nowadays the dust alone would probably kill someone with allergies, and about half the kids I know have allergies. (I had asthma at the time, but never in the summer and the hay dust and pollen never affected me. Odd.) One summer, my parents sponsored a group of Horizon Girls and they had the Big Adventure of "sleeping out" in the hay house. Of course, some of us boys had to sneak down and see what they were doing and they discovered us and squealed and all that sort of girly stuff. No harm done, though, everyone was just teasing. Finally, my dad rented the fields to a neighbor for pasture and the cows trampled down the hay house. By this time, the seeds in the hay had sprouted to young, tender grass and the temptation was just too much for a stupid cow. After the demise of the hay house, it was largely forgotten. High-school activities, cars and such became much more interesting and only recently have I even thought of it again. The younger generation sits in front of the TV or the computer and says, "Hay house? Sounds boring!" I would bet if they had one, it would be the coolest thing in the neighborhood. I suppose nowadays that vandals would set fire to a hay house, and you wouldn't dare let girls sleep out alone. What's more, the EPA would probably post a notice that everyone had to potty in the house so the sewage would go through a proper septic system. As though half a dozen little boys would have more "output" than a herd of cows.... |