A time you read this they should be a gettin near t’ the end o’harvest. I an’t a goin t’say any thing about this year’s harvest cos the young master from the Hall will b’a writin about that.
I ha bin a thinkin about the fust harvest I did ,that were about fifty five year ago, m’father wont ha me a warkin a’long a him so I got a harvest job with a little farmer up the road. Mother din’t mind me a goin there cos he were a ‘chapel’ man so I wont hear any swear wuds.
Although combines were a getitin about this farmer still used a binder. arter that started cutting a field you ha’a walk round a’pickin up the sheaves & shock um up. thas a standin the sheaves on their butt ends and little way apart and leanin the head ends agin each other so that looked like the letta V bottom way up. you put four pairs of sheaves t’gether so that looked like a tent with both ends open. that were so the wind could blow though & help dry the straw. Barley was the worst to shock up cause them old barley awns got every where and I mean every where, my hart that made you suffin scratch. When I got home at night arter shocking up barley I ha’a wash all over t’get rid on um, there wern’t no showerin in them days and the old tin bath only cum out on a Saturday night arter father had filled the copper w’water from the well & lit the fire underneath t’heat it.
Arter the barley ,oats & wheat had bin cut & shocked up the ha’a stand in the field t ripen, they recon they (the Sheaves) ha’a hear the chuch bells twice afor you could think about a cartin them t’the stack, cos if that rained they ha’a stay in the field until they dried out.
When we started a’cartin the sheaves t’the stack the farmer I were a warkin for had two harvest wagons, one were pulled by a little Allis Charmers tractor & the other by a hos, there were another boy a warkin there who were a year older than me so he driv the tractor & I got the hos. My job was to lead the hos twix the rows of shocks so the men could load the sheaves on t’the wagon, arter they had cleared the shocks each side o’the wagon and a’for I started leadin the old hos forad I ha’a shout ‘hold-gee’ that so the man on the load knew I were about t’move on, arter m’ fust day a doin that m’mother recon I kept a shoutin out hold-gee in m’sleep. When the wagon was full I ha’a lead the hos t’the stack and unload the wagon either direct on’t the stack or when that got higher on’t the elevator. You ha’a put the sheaf onta the elevator the right way round and at the right speed du the man on the stack who were a’feedin the man buildin the stack would soon start a’shoutin at yer.
Harvests ha cum a long way since then, In the 1980’s I were lucky enough to drive one o’the fust combines what cum inta the country that were fitted with a computa and were connected t’one of them saterlite things what whiss around in the sky. Harvest is a lot easier than that were fifty five year ago. Some folks say harvest ent like the good old days & we ort’a bring um back. Them folks what say that ha never had’t shock up barley all day or ha’a carry 18 stone (112kg) sacks o’wheat on their back.
I ha got t’go now cos the Missus asked me a’while ago t’get some spuds & carrots out’a the garden so she could cook um for dinner, If I don’t start a scrappin about thas likely I won’t get any dinner t’day.
Fare ye well t’gether & du you keep a’throshin.