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we had a few good days last week, but it proved to be wet yesterday. The corn harvest would be in full swing in September at one time, and wet days were not appreciated as damp corn was not a condition which made the procurement of the crop any simpler, and often a few days could be wasted as it dried-at times damage occured making good cutting difficult.
But good dry days were excellent, and the labour entered into a joy, as the binder was easy to handle in the nice erect corn, as it should be as a good going machine, with suitable conditions now at hand.
Come evening, with a few acres laid low or next morning, if night time was falling, the rows of stooks were made. Stooks consisted of the sheaves being placed in an upright position but leaning inwards in groups of eight. The corn, thus dealt with, dried and matured ready for a further process named huts. Huts could be described to be small corn-stacks where the sheaves matured and dried further to make sure no heating would happen in the final large corn-stack. They were also a good size for transporting from the fields to the stackyard.
Work on the croft was exceedingly hard but very satisfying and a feeling of accomplishment gave a certain sense of being part of some vision of hope.
Just imagine as a further example- a lovely moonlight evening with the crofter and helper making a corn-stack and enjoying being part of something bigger and greater than the world. The moon shedding her benign rays of light; a lamp to their efforts.
This was an exciting way of life seldom experienced these latter days. What sems to ail humanity these days? Is it the weather change, or the sense of gloom and doom which prevails so much.