Day 26: Barn Baby, Barn

Strictly speaking, the thought for today isn't unique to October, but it is the season when I think about them the most, so it totally counts. So what am I talking about, well, barns of course. I love barns as much as I love pumpkins, but pumpkins are easier to purchase and take up a lot less room, so I have to content myself with snapshots, clippings, and Google searches to feed my habit. I especially love barns that are rotting and weathered and about to fall down. But new shiny barns that are all red and have white trim catch my fancy too. Yup, I am an equal opportunity barn lover.

Not growing up in the country has lead me to have a very romanticized notion of barns that I am sure people who actually live with them and use them do not have. To me, barns are full of mystery and beauty, history and stories. I almost can't go by a barn without it sparking my imagination, which now that I live in the sticks makes for dangerous driving. I can't be day dreaming every time I leave my driveway.

Barns have a sense of history that houses don't. People modify houses all the time. Unless it is a historical dwelling, houses change with the times. But barns, barns stay the same. Their purpose is to be functional. No one decides to remodel their barn unless they use it as an office or guesthouse. Barns get left alone for the most part. They watch life go by and in some cases have ushered it in.

A good barn doesn't look new when its final days come. A good barn looks like it has lived every inch of its life the day it finally collapses. And that is how barns should go. They shouldn't be demolished with a bulldozer or wrecking ball. They should stand for years and slowly list to one side. Finally they should succumb to the alluring pull of gravity. A good barn should lie in a pile of cracked timbers for a few years with vines and creepers growing over it before it is finally removed. After all, it has served its purpose, it deserves a rest.  

My favorite thing when going down a highway is to look for tipsy barns. You see them in the strangest places. My favorite is one that stands just off the highway on the outskirts of a busy city. There is a vacant weedy lot being sold and there is an old crumbling barn sitting on it. It lists to the left in the front and the timbers have seen better days. The door has long since fallen off and not a stitch of paint can be seen. I love that barn.

These days we try our hardest not to show our age, to hide our peeling paint and cracked timbers, but old barns, they don't have anything to prove to anyone. They are out there for all to see, withstanding the ravages of time and showing every scar and nick. We could learn a lot from barns.

Barns remind me of who I am. They remind me of the passage of time and of history gone by. What has happened in those barns? Maybe they were used to store machinery. Maybe someone had their first kiss snuggled back in a hayloft. Perhaps it was a working barn with animals and tractors and gear hung from the rafters.

For some reason barns just make me nostalgic. They get my imagination going immediately. I think of barn owls soaring around the rafters. I hear the rustle of hay as a horse turns around in its stall. I watch the sunset from the open door of a hay loft, or feel the burn of the rope as I swing off a rafter into packed straw. I can smell the grease from an old tractor and hear the clink of tools swinging from their hooks in the breeze. Then there are October barns. They are good for dances, outdoor movies and haunted houses.

My favorite barn related discovery so far has been a small business called, are you ready, Built of Barnwood. So of course I love it, I mean it has barn in the title. It is now defunct, but it was run exclusively by a family of four and they even let their kids design some of their goods. They took wood from old barns and pallets and make new things from them. That just made my heart smile. I bought quite a few things from them and I love the idea that my little bit of wood used to be a working barn and now it has a new lease on life cheering me up. What a great idea. I should have thought of it first.

See, there are many, many reasons to love barns. Go find one and send me some pictures.

Day 25: Rambling About Architecture

I think my fog dance is busted. Maybe I added a shimmy when it should have been a shake. Or perhaps my October operating system is on the blink. It seems to be a trade off this year. My monster cereals were easily accessible and they rereleased the old ones. But soy pumpkin nog is nowhere to be found. The corn maze is saved from drought and soldiers on, but there is no fog. I have had many, many pumpkin spice lattes, but not one caramel apple. Yup, it's official, my October mojo is on the fritz. I haven't read hardly any of my October magazines. The October books I have been dying to read were not all that great. I haven't watched most of my October movies and I totally missed the 10 day countdown. Now I have to squeeze a months worth of awesomeness into six days. I've said it before and I'll say it again, October just needs to annex the worthless month of November so the fun can last longer. Whew. Glad I got that out of my system. I think it is the threat of snow and the fact that people have Christmas stuff up already that is making me cranky. But enough about all that, let's get on to the important bits.

One of my favorite October things is old stuff. Of course being a history major and curious in nature that doesn't really surprise anyone, but October old stuff is the coolest. There are old, crumbly houses, ghost towns, dilapidated barns, castles, caves,  graveyards and creepy museums. I love the history of October. I love the fact that in small East coast burgs they celebrate that history and it makes me want to move there even more. I love all the old stuff, but in the interest of brevity I will only focus on one today, barns.

There is just something about barns. I love the color. I love the shape. I love it when they are shiny and new. I love them even more when they are only held up by dumb luck and duct tape. Old barns can speak volumes. They are places of work, play, rest, contemplation, imagination, life, death, warmth, shelter and community. Good barns always have a tractor in them, a hay loft, stalls for animals, a tool corner, pitchforks, thick rope, windows, big doors, and enough space to host a dance.
I think the passage of time is etched into the wood that makes up a barn. Barns have seen life go by, and been present for it in all its incarnations. I have a few pieces of art that are made out of barn wood and I can spend hours lost in contemplation about what life they have seen and been a part of. Did this owner have to get up and milk cows? Did a teenager sneak their first kiss in one? Maybe a rather adventurous soul jumped off the loft into a pile of hay. Maybe this barn was a shelter for members of the underground railroad or Jews fleeing from Nazi oppression. Perhaps this barn was part of a barn raising and not some prefab thing. There are all sorts of things to imagine.

My very favorite barns are the ones that defy gravity and logic and simply refuse to go gentle in to that good night. They lean and creak and look like one really good sneeze could send them toppling. But still they stand. They lean a little more, the wood loses more and more of its luster, but it gives me hope. It makes me want to live my life like that. Still standing no matter what life throws at it. Even burned barns leave a silhouette on the landscape. A patch where they once stood.
I know barns might not seem very October, but when you think of harvest and the sight of a barn against a backdrop of fall leaves, you might change your mind. Barns are full of possibilities and that to me is the perfect October qualification.

Barn Baby, Barn: OT Day 18

Strictly speaking, the thought for today isn't unique to October, but it is the season when I think about them the most, so it totally counts. That said, I love barns. I love barns as much as I love pumpkins, but pumpkins are easier to purchase and take up a lot less room, so I have to content myself with snapshots, clippings, and Google searches to feed my habit. I especially love barns that are rotting and weathered and about to fall down. But new shiny barns that are all red and have white trim catch my fancy too. Yup, I am an equal opportunity barn lover.

Not growing up in the country, has lead me to have a very romanticized notion of barns that I am sure people who actually live with them and use them don't have. To me, barns are full of mystery and beauty. History and stories. I almost can't go by a barn without it sparking my imagination. Which now that I live in the sticks makes for dangerous driving. I can't be day dreaming every time I leave my driveway.

Barns have a sense of history that houses don't. People modify houses all the time. Unless it is a historical dwelling, houses change with the times. But barns, barns stay the same. Their purpose is to be functional. No one decides to remodel their barn unless they use it as an office or guesthouse. Barns get left alone for the most part. They watch life go by and in some cases have ushered it in.

A good barn doesn't look new when its final days come. A good barn looks like it has lived every inch of its life the day it finally collapses. And that is how barns should go. They shouldn't be demolished with a bulldozer or wrecking ball. They should stand for years and slowly list to one side. Finally they should succumb to the alluring pull of gravity. A good barn should lie in a pile of cracked timbers for a few years with vines and creepers growing over it before it is finally removed. After all, it has served its purpose, it deserves a rest. That kinda sounds like a good life philosophy come to think of it.

My favorite thing when going down a highway is to look for collapsed barns. You see them in the strangest places. My favorite is one that stands just off the highway on the outskirts of a busy city. There is a vacant weedy lot being sold and there is an old crumbling barn sitting on it. It lists to the left in the front and the timbers have seen better days. The door has long since fallen off and not a stitch of paint can be seen. I love that barn.

These days, we try our hardest not to show our age. To hide our peeling paint and cracked timbers. But old barns. They don't have anything to prove to anyone. They are out there for all to see, withstanding the ravages of time and showing every scar and nick. We could learn a lot from barns. Some people, ok, if we are being honest, most people call such things an eyesore. The land a decrepit barn is sitting on could become the newest Starbucks or a strip mall.

Barns remind me of who I am. They remind me of the passage of time and of history gone by. What has happened in those barns? Maybe they were used to store machinery. Maybe someone had their first kiss snuggled back in a hayloft. Perhaps it was a working barn with animals and tractors and gear hung from the rafters.

For some reason barns just make me nostalgic. They get my imagination going immediately. I think of barn owls soaring around the rafters. I hear the rustle of hay as a horse turns around in its stall. I watch the sunset from the open door of a hay loft, or feel the burn of the rope as I swing off a rafter into packed straw. I can smell the grease from an old tractor and hear the clink of tools swinging from their hooks in the breeze. Then there are October barns. They are good for dances, outdoor movies and haunted houses.

My favorite barn related discovery so far has been a small business that opened up about seven months ago. It is called, are you ready, Built of Barnwood. So of course I love it, I mean it has barn in the title. It is run exclusively by a family of four and they even let their kids design some of their goods. They take wood from old barns and pallets and make new things from them. That just made my heart smile. I have bought a few things from them and I love the idea that my little bit of wood used to be a working barn and now it has a new lease on life cheering me up. What a great idea. I should have thought of it first.

See, there are many, many reasons to love barns. Go find one and send me some pictures.