Up until now I have seen very few wagons of hay on the move. To be precise I have seen only three. Of course it may well be that some loads have passed by without me seeing them but there is definitely much less hay heading for the livestock areas than usual.

I consider there are three reasons for this. Firstly the weather has not been very favourable for making good hay, and while it is only too easy to make bad hay, you make sure that you only buy good stuff. Secondly a lot of people have gone out of keeping cattle, particularly dairy cattle. Then thirdly much more reliance is placed on silage than used to be the case.

It may even be felt in some cases that hay is too expensive. So how do you tell if hay is expensive or not? If you are of my generation, then one way is to forget all about the Common Agricultural Policy and concentrate on CPA which of course stands for (and I have been preaching this for a long time) Comparative Purchasing Ability.

For instance, 50 years ago if you were farming up in the hills you might sell a decent half bred gimmer lamb for £5, you could buy good hay at £20 per ton so it took four decent half bred gimmer lambs (off the hills) to buy a ton of hay. If nowadays you can buy hay at £70 per ton and you would sell a decent half bred gimmer lamb again off the hills for £50 £60, how expensive is the hay according to CPA?

Talking about hay puts you in mind of how particular the old haytimers were that hay should not be carried until all the correct processes had been carefully gone through.

Horse mowing machines replaced the long poled scythes for cutting the grass after which it would be turned by farmworkers and often all the farmer's family going round and round the field using wooden hay rakes. Then along came the two-row turner pulled by a horse, this replaced turning with rakes. The next operation was shaking out the rows with either rakes or two-pronged forks so that the hay was spread evenly over the field to give it every chance to dry.

Another process was putting the hay into what was known as foot and rake cocks. You could either do this with the newly dried turned rows or you could put the spread hay into small rows and work along the rows pulling the hay up to your foot to make a small pile, hence the name foot and rake cock.

Depending on the weather, when it had "hayed out" you could put one of the small cocks onto another, tidy it up and then you had a good sized cock that could at least turn light rain and would measure up to one good forkful for reaching onto a cart.

All this was hot and thirsty work which meant the haytimers needed plenty to eat and drink. They often looked quite picturesque, the womenfolk in their bonnets and the men folk in their straw hats.

Not long ago in Penrith, as I walked through the arcade near the George Hotel, I came across a display of all sorts of baskets. Some had names on, most had not. My eyes settled on a big, strong rectangular one about nine inches deep with a strong hoop-like handle over the centre. We would have called it a bagging basket, bagging being a dialect word for food or bait, and it would be in such a basket that food would be brought into the hayfield to sustain the hungry workers.

A spotlessly clean cloth would be spread in the basket and freshly-baked pasties, pies and cake would be placed in the bottom, covered over with a cloth and on top of that cloth would be the sandwiches and perhaps some sections of meat pie in a dish. This would be accompanied with either one or two gallon cans of tea. I can tell you, food never tasted better than when it was eaten in the shade sitting on a small pile of hay.

When someone brought the basket and cans, the boss would shout "bagging" - he only needed to shout once and everyone would come across. If there was a tree or a high hedge, the horses would appreciate a rest in the shade.

When the boss came to the field he would often be carrying a leather-type shopping bag which he would hide under a big armful of fresh-cut grass to keep it cool, for inside would be perhaps half-a-dozen bottles of home-made herb or nettle beer. And I tell you what - there was never any of that got wasted.

If you are ever having trouble attracting a countryman's attention, try shouting "bagging" - you may be surprised!

Dialect word: Strewer meaning hay scaler.

Thought for the day: This is a thought that Thomas Todd would both know and approve of: "Live as if you were going to die tomorrow, but farm as if you were going to live forever."