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View from the North 40: It's a time of woe, not hay

Buying hay for my horses this year felt like a cross between the opening moments of the New York Stock exchange in a bull market and gift shopping on Black Friday — and just a skosh, or maybe even a smidge, like negotiating a nefarious black market deal.

Every hay-for-sale ad or online post, as if the starting bell was ringing in the opening of the stock exchange, sent a mad crush of humans into the fray. (For anyone born later than the movie “Trading Places,” the trading floor was like a mosh pit for money rather than music.) With our phones to our ears, arms waving and papers flyin...

 

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