Somehow, somewhere, Bob found more hay to bale and a corner of the barn to house it.
Besides a fourth cutting of alfalfa at our place, which was green, wet, and heavy when stacked in the barn (we'll use it quickly), he baled the empty industrial park lot to our east. That grass hay was full of weeds, but will make decent bedding.
Bob says he can't help it. He has hay fever.
I'm looking forward to the end of the growing season.