I spent many, many hours dragging an IH 990 moco around a hayfield, listening to the rhythmic tunka-tunka-tunka of the paddlewheel turning and the tika-tika-tika of the sicklebar going back and forth, then the Zzzzzzz of the ratchet gear on the compression rollers as they spun down after kicking the PTO out of gear. My grandpa always said haying was the hardest kind of farming there was because you had to do it when the hay was ready, and it was ready in the hottest and driest part of the summer. He was right, and it was hot, dirty work, but by God, I do miss it. This is the first time in years that I haven't even sat in the saddle of a tractor or greased an implement. I even miss that...