…is an old barn.
This particular barn sits over a couple hills and through the woods and over a couple more hills from our farm.
Yesterday, we were there for hay.
I’m not sure why Boomer was there.
But he followed us for a mile down the road until we finally gave in and picked him up. That’s the way to teach him, Suzanne! I don’t really like to take Boomer in the car because he always throws up. And yet! We made it to the hay barn safe and sound. It was an enormous barn. You can drive right through it.
It was built sometime in the 1800s. Every nook and cranny and secret pocket was full of hay.
I wanted to load this barn up on the back of the truck and take it home.
But it wouldn’t fit.
Notice how every side of this barn looks different?
I was in love with this barn, in all its broken beauty….
….and oddly teetering cornerstones.
But it was time to get the hay.
Or, you know, time for someone else to get the hay.
And time for me to look around. There was an old farmhouse to go with the old barn.
And I’d heard tell there was even an outhouse.
Some time later in its life, it had been turned into a small chicken house.
Had it been a one-seat, two-seat, three-seat? Was there any original vestige left that would reveal? I had to know. YOU KNOW I DID. And so I reached for the simple wooden latch.
But the hinges stuck and I couldn’t open the door. And so….
….there are some secrets that will be kept forever.
Meanwhile, the truck was loaded.
And we had to drive away without taking my newly beloved barn with me.
We stopped by the little store in town on the way home for a few things.
Ran into my favorite real country girl, Faye. The parking lot was PACKED with passers-through. Deer season starts today. While we were there, a man, seeing the truck loaded with hay, approached us in the parking lot to ask if we needed more hay. He had hay to sell. This has been a banner hay season. Some farmers have cut as many as four times. Last year, we had trouble finding hay. This is the year of plenty, and good prices. We have now stocked up over 100 bales. We don’t know how many we need and can only estimate. I wrote the man’s name and phone number down on a piece of paper just in case.
And then we drove home, over the hills and through the woods to our little farm. Home. And just as we ratttled past the sheep pasture (in this old truck) and headed for the steep driveway….
….Boomer (seen here snuggled up on 52) finally threw up and the trip was complete!