The wise, well-organized farmer never runs out of hay. He is up with the roosters and in bed with the dusk. He’s at one with the land, with the animals, with his hay supply. He’s alert.
He can probably get his truck up his driveway.
He’s not me. Me? I was outta hay. And Clover was about to hurt me. So some hay had to be had.
So yesterday we took off across the river ford to get out because the road in the other direction is so covered up in snow, it’s impassable.
Not that the hard road across the river was really much better.
But we were okay once we hit the main road. And the upside of running out of hay with too much winter to go is we got to go back to this barn.
I’m in love with this big, old, beautiful barn.
It sits right in the bend of a country road. It looks kinda rickety on the outside, but–
–there’s nothing rickety about it inside.
Massive support beams.
They don’t make ’em like this anymore. Look at that, it’s like a whole tree there. Bark and everything.
I love this little red iron gate outside the barn. What is that about? This big, beautiful barn holds a lot of secrets.
What did they keep in this tiny little barn yard?
I’ll tell you what they kept inside. EVERYTHING. What is this stuff? Saddles? Whoopie cushions?
I think they sell “ornamental hooks” like this in upscale western shops for big bucks.
I know this one! It’s a hub cap!
I thought this might be something more exciting, romantic, and medieval, but the hay farmer told me they were just rusted old stove burners.
I know this one, too!
What else does this barn hide?? Where’s the restaurant, the movie theater? You could poke around in there for days and not find it all.
But my favorite part is really just all the locks and hinges and latches.
These are fairytale doors.
And this one, with the weathered blue paint and ancient hinges?
How gorgeous is that?
Oh yeah. What we’re here for. HAY.
The hay farmer counted it up on the truck.
He does his math on the gate.
There really was a truck under all that hay, believe it or not. We got it all tied on and headed home.
We bought 50 bales, though we could only haul 25 in a load. We’ll have to go back for the other 25. (We bought 100 last fall, so now we know. We needed 150. Hopefully that will carry us till spring.)
Goodbye, big, old, beautiful barn full of secrets.
I’ll see you in the fall! Until then, I’ll miss you….. Because I wish you were MINE.
Dear Big, Old, Beautiful Barn,
If you ever want to run away, you are welcome on my farm. I have a nice meadow. The sheep and Jack would love you, and I would bring you chocolate pudding cake every day.
I’m just sayin’.