My husband played basketball on the drive floor.
He fed calves and bedded many a Bozo (his dad’s pet name for each replacement bull.)
He climbed the ladder to feed the barn cats in the dark and once came nose-to-nose with a raccoon when he pushed it out of the way to reach the light.
He kept his horses in this pasture, and out back is where I met my Wendy that his parents bought for me shortly after our wedding.
His mother warned me to watch out for the bull. She managed to scare me well. Once when Dennis and I were in the pasture, Bozo took a step toward me, and I threw myself under the electric fence. I think Bozo laughed as hard as Dennis.
Dennis tells how his dad used a shipping crate to hold grain–about 8 feet long, 3 feet wide, and 3 feet tall. A crate that once held the casket of a soldier, home from the war. He thinks the remains might still be in the brush and promises to help me look for it.
We could not maintain the barn. The huge metal doors at the top of the barn bridge had fallen off. The stone foundation was crumbling. We looked into restoration, but it was so expensive.
framed by our memories.
“But the Master, God, has something to say to this: Watch closely. I’m laying a foundation in Zion, a solid granite foundation, squared and true. And this is the meaning of the stone: a trusting life won’t topple. I’ll make justice the measuring stick and righteousness the plumb line for the building. A hailstorm will knock down the shantytown of lies, and a flash flood will wash out the rubble.” ~Isaiah 28:16-17 (Message)
Note: This post is in response to Claire Burge’s PhotoPlay prompt “Frame It” at The High Calling Blogs.
Copyright © 2010 by Sandra Heska King
Awww. I hate to see that.
I love old, historical buildings of any sort.
I would have wept too… so glad that our foundations are sure.
amy in peru
So many of the old buildings have collapsed due to a faulty foundation … so thankful for the Corner Stone.
@sherri: My inlaws sold the houses across the road many years ago (centennial portion.) Made me so sad. Now someone else owns them, nobody lives in them, and they will soon be gone. 🙁
@Amy: Amen to that!
@Susan: Eternally!
I love these pictures. A wonderful (and poignant) offering for PhotoPlay.
Both Loverby and I lost our family homesteads last summer to FOR SALE/Auction. It was grievous to the core. We still feel homeless in a sense. I love barns and the stories the walls hold. 🙂
I have many memories of Michigan. And I know I would've noticed a cool looking barn like this if I happened to drive by.
That's sad it's gone.
My heart goes out to you. These old barns tie us to the earth, to God's provision, and to the most loved work in the world. It is hard see them go. But you've found the Truth in your framing of the history and the memories. Thanks for sharing!
Oh Sandra, that's just so awful. I love old barns, and that one was full of such good memories. This post was so, so good.
@LL: Thanks. Photography is not my talent, but I try. I love capturing images, and I'm learning.
@Kathleen: 🙁 I remember how sad I was when hubby's parents sold the houses across the road–and then sold this house, which we were able to buy back. A blog post for another day.
@Duane: The barn was kind of a landmark on I-69 and for giving directions to our house. "Get off on exit 57, right by the old barn . . ."
@Kris: Beautiful comment! Thank you!
@Billy: Thanks. I used to dream of restoring it for a restaurant, a quilt shop, a museum. Why does everything cost money? We did save some of the wood.
oh this takes me back to family memories on farms back in south africa. summer days where the silence hums and all life bends gently to the laziness of each day.
the last photo is particulary good. you have captured the essence of what you have written.
One blessing is to see how you are gifted at connected "life's realities" to God's eternal messages to us. That balance is something very few have in this present world.
Sorry you had to walk through it… and have to walk through more … but "Our Father" will bring healing. That's what we rely upon.
And how I would have wept too. Perhaps you were able to salvage some wood and create something beautiful…
Blessings.
@Claire: I hope to make memories in Africa one day.
I thought the photo was way too dark, but the more I looked at it, the more I think you are right. Plus the smallness of my son compared to the largeness of the rubble and the silo towering above.
Thanks for this opportunity! I can't wait for the next one.
@caryjo: You are a blessing to me!
@ASCG: Yes, we have some wood and some other artifacts. And pictures from the past–including one framed that my son took as part of a photography class. And someone came to salvage some for wedding reception decorations!
One thing I forgot to mention. My husband's grandfather got it in his head during the depression, when money was tight, to paint the barn with used motor oil. My father-in-law said it never would hold paint again.
One wall in our basement is paneled with wood from the original centennial barns. Tangible memories when the brain waves begin to fade. 😉
So glad you could keep some tangible memories from the barn. Good reminder about building on a firm foundation.
Janis
Welcome, Janis! So glad you came to visit. Also good to remember that even if we start with a firm foundation, we need to keep it in good repair.