We just cut and baled 8 acres of weeds to feed the sheep this winter.
Yeah… weeds. Not “weed.”
Let me back you up a bit. February of this year, I hang up the phone and holler to Anne, “We got it!”
She looks at me and says, “What did you do, Rod??”
“I finally got the number for the guy who bought that little 12-acre farm next to the Dell place… and guess what? We’re renting it to farm now!”
Well, we were all pretty pleased. Growth plan for the sheep? Solved. A new hay field in the mix? Perfect. I didn’t even make it out of the room before I was on Marketplace buying more ewes. And they came. And we planted the hay. And… that’s where I wish the story ended.
Late March, I’m over at Justin’s — you know, the local hay and forage seed guy. His driveway’s full of pickup trucks. We’d had this short dry spell, so everybody’s thinking the same thing: get some hay in early before the spring rains come.
I’m feeling pretty smart, being one of the first farmers to turn a wheel in 2025. Got the seed in the ground, full of hope. That night I’m in bed, and here it comes — a big storm. Three inches of rain. Then about two months of cold, dreary weather. And not a sprig of hay to be seen.
By June 1, I’m back in the field with Justin and another seed rep. From where I stood, it was nothing but weeds. They’re all, “Oh, the seed’s still in there, it’ll come.” They seemed pretty sure their seed had superpowers. I shook their hands, thanked them for the second opinion, and went home.
Couple more weeks go by, and every trip to that farm looks the same. Weeds. And every time I’m counting bales for winter feed against the number of ewes to feed… well, the math wasn’t looking good.
One day I’m sitting in my chair, stewing about it, and Anne — maybe just a little fed up — says, “Well, guess you better do something about it.”
So in July, we decided to replant the hay.
(And no one plants hay in July. That’s like trying to bake bread in a freezer.)
But honestly? Driving over what little was there and starting fresh was the only choice left. Do nothing, and we’d have nothing.
We got it done quick. This time, though, I tried something crazy. I left all the weeds standing, thinking they might give the seedlings a bit of shade from that summer sun. Even though I know the neighbors are all driving by thinking I’ve lost my mind, saying to themselves, “Why isn’t he doing something about those weeds?!”
By last week, the weeds were waist-high and going to seed. I figured I’d have to cut and bale them to get rid of the seed at least, then find somewhere to dump them. But just for fun, I Googled the weed to see if sheep could eat it.
Turns out… yeah. High in nutrients. Sheep actually like it.
Now, it’s not top-shelf feed — more dry and crunchy than anything — but maybe they’ll enjoy a little variety in their diet this winter. So we cut and baled it, and it’s now sitting in the feed pile.
Meanwhile, those tiny hay seedlings are about an inch tall. We need some rain, and with luck, maybe we’ll get a cut this fall. Or… I’ll be planting that field for the third time this year.
Just one of those things on a little farm. We make the best of what we’ve got, and keep hoping the next crop turns out better.
Farmer Rod