The fun part about the job

I've always said one of my favorite parts of being a journalist is learning what the rest of the world does for a living.

I enjoy listening to artists tell their stories about what inspires them to paint or draw. I love watching actors create stage plays or movies. I enjoy talking with politicians just to see what makes them tick. I also love to watch a skillful chef prepare a meal (little known fact: One of my favorite TV shows is "Hell's Kitchen.")

Every now and then reporters get to have a little fun of their own by getting downright dirty. Friday afternoon I spent the day with the Hieber family in Manchester as part of my Adopt-a-Farm series. The Hiebers were as busy as ever working hard to bail hay. They are behind schedule due to all the rain that has come through this area.

When they asked if I wanted to ride on the tractor and watch how hay was actually bailed, I jumped at the chance. The ride was a little bumpy, but not bad. We were in a closed cab tractor, so I didn't have the authenticity of getting dirt and hay all over me while we tended the field.

Unfortunately, about 20 minutes in, the tractor started acting up. The Hiebers had to get it fixed, and they politely asked if I could come back later because they had a lot of work to still do before sunset. Naturally I obliged.

Before leaving, Charles Hieber's wife, Kara, asked if I wanted to see the barn where the family stores all of its hay before I left. Naturally I couldn't resist just a peek. However, I quickly learned I was in store for more than a peek.

The barn was filled to the brim with both square and circular bailed hay and Kara quickly began climbing on the barrels to get to the top of the barn. She asked me to follow her.

"Climb to the top of a barn on hay barrels? You have to be joking!" I thought.

But, for the sake of the story, I decided to throw caution to the wind. At this point I should tell you, yes I am somewhat afraid of heights.

Before I could even get one foot on the hay barrel, I lost my balance and fell. Luckily the ground below wasn't that far. No worse for the wear, I got up, brushed myself off, and started my ascent again. This time I got up near Kara, who informed me we still had a ways to climb.

Crawling on my belly, I followed Kara under wooden beams until we reached the top of the barn, at which point she asked, "Are you afraid of heights?"

I tried to play coy about it, but Kara knew I was a bit nervous (it must have been the shear panic in my eyes that gave me away.)

Kara was nice about it and helped me along until we reached the top and I was able to take a few photos. I also handed her my camera so she could snap a photo of me conquering the mountain of hay.

All in a days work you might say.