Little Boy in a Big Barn

Luke loves to climb the ladder to the hay mow and look for eggs hidden in nooks and crannies. I go with him for fear he will fall down a hay hole, or be attacked by a rooster, or fall prey to some unknown danger. I wish I had a load of hay up there for him to climb on...I am extremely nervous about hay, and am trying to keep that nagging fear bedded down. Not succeeding. The grass is chest high across the road and no sign of the neighbor. Granted, we have not had four days of sunshine without rain yet. Here's hoping for a hot, dry August....still, without this hay cut we won't have much time for a second cut. Other farmers are haying in Brookfield. Another winter like the last and I am finished. What's that poem..."But for a steed the battle was lost"? or something like that? But for a tractor...