Missing blue twine: the Haymaking Festival tied up in knots

In Saint-Raclure-sur-Motte, the only spool of 5500 blue agricultural twine has vanished from the cabinet in the village hall.
Without it, the parade of flower-decked cows, the backwards wheelbarrow race, and the suspended blood sausage record are in jeopardy.

At daybreak, shock in the festival committee room: metal cabinet no. 2 (the one labeled “twine, nails and secrets”) was open, its precious blue spool gone. And according to the rules of the Harmonized Tying Contest, every fastening, decorative hanging, and starting line must be made with that exact twine—no thinner, no more orange. Without it, it’s impossible to edge the tarp of the waffle stall, lash the “Haymaking 2026” banner to the plane tree, and hoist the 12.80 m blood sausage to 1.45 m off the ground as tradition demands.

“I sleep better when I know the twine is there. We only handle it with dry hands, and we rewind it on even-numbered Thursdays—there’s a reason for that,” sighs Marceline P., president of the Flat Knot Club and self-appointed keeper of twine offcuts since 1994. According to her, the spool still bore its “CFB-5500” seal and a toothpick bookmark to find the proper starting end. “Someone pulled without counting. Twine has to be earned.”

Faced with the emergency, makeshift solutions were proposed, then briskly ruled out. Butcher’s twine? Too aromatic—risk of sending the local bee off course. Orange baler twine? “Visually aggressive; it panics the turkeys,” reminds the Brotherhood of Calm Birds, which requires a non-reflective blue spectrum so as not to disorient Fernand the rooster during the bugle test. Even the idea of a polka-dot gift ribbon was thrown out: incompatible with the calibration of the municipal tape measure, which is calibrated to Blue 5500.

A methodical search has been launched: the attic over the covered schoolyard, the beet trailer, the band’s piano drawer, and the old corn-dryer hopper will be combed until sunset. Reward announced over the loudspeaker: a “Party Before the Party” hamper (a jar of 2007 gherkins, three rissoles, and a turnip fridge magnet). In the meantime, the wheelbarrows are practicing backing up in circles and the sausage rests on two school chairs: “we won’t hang it until we have the right blue,” vows Marceline, “or else the Festival falls flat.”