Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Building the Future

 The saw mill was set up in the creek bottom. Trees were cut and boards sawed then loaded on the sleigh drawn by the horse that took them to the site of the barn raising.

My sister, Peggy, was a little girl when Dad built the barn. She was the first to sit in the big door in the mow. She was the one to remember the horses. She was the first to walk into the cow parlor when it was all brand new.

The barn was a new style. One of the first to have an open loft with beams that ran from the floor to the peak of the roof like ribs inside of a huge carcass. It was a piece of art made of wood, made by hand.

I love knowing that the wood was from the farm and carried by horse power. I know that Mom was in the kitchen cooking for the hungry builders. Crops were still growing in the fields and in need of attention of man and beast. The farm grew up by my parents' hands and sacrifice. A different era that today is precious to the daughters who lived there. A barn was raised on Neff Road.

And so was I.

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