I see it out my penthouse window.
When did my husband paint the whole west side white? I see it every day. I just realized that it’s white.
It looks dumb. I wish it was all gray or all white.
Preferably all gray. The white door is okay.
And the paint job’s pretty sloppy.
No offense, DH.
(I can see him scratch his arms as he laughs nervously.)
I really must be more observant.
We had chickens for a couple of years. I love fresh eggs.
We just use the building for storage now. I think we call it the shed. I will have to listen to myself the next time I talk about it.
Because I think I sometimes call the little addition attached to our garage the shed. The people before us added it on as a doghouse, and there’s a little door that leads to what was once a small kennel with a cement floor. (The cement is still there. We took the wire down.)
Or maybe I still call that the rabbit house. We kept over 30 rabbits in there when the kids were in 4-H.
My daughter wrote this in chalk about 12 years ago, and it says “welcome to the rabbit barn.”
I don’t remember calling it the barn. Maybe I did.
Nevertheless, now it houses the riding lawnmower and recycling.
Actually, I think I still call the shed the chicken house.
But it used to be the peafowl house back when Dennis’ parents lived here. And I remember the big birds strutting around the yard. They used to get out a lot and sometimes fly to the top of the house and scream, “HALLLP! HALLLP!”
I’m confusing myself. We have these outbuildings. Well, technically the one is not an outbuilding since it’s attached to the garage. We cut through the garage wall so we could walk right in.
These buildings have names. I think. But I don’t remember what they are. I wonder if the rest of the family is as confused as I am. And how do we find anything?
Anyway, this is what I know.
Both buildings have served different functions over the years.
With the purpose of providing shelter–for different critters as well as stuff.
And God’s given each one of us a purpose.
But we serve different functions over the years.
There’s a time for everything.
And now you are as confused as I am.
Joining Cassandra for her Window Views at Moonboat Cafe.