My Grandpa's Barn

Barn Near Colfax, WI
(not my grandpa's barn)

There's just something about barns, especially old red barns, that I love. They remind me of my grandpa's barn when I was a child. I remember that barn was always kept clean and smelled like cows, fresh milk, feed, and lime (not the kind you use in guacamole). There were always cats in the barn, waiting for someone to throw them a strainer pad soaked with milk or give them a fresh spritz right from the cow.

I remember pushing the barn broom around, but I'm not sure that I accomplished much, unless it was to stay out of my grandpa's way while he was trying to work. Since barn walls were thick, the window sills were deep enough for a kid to curl up with a kitten or use as a place to store treasures - twine, old keys, milkweed pods, flowers, etc. My grandma's flower bed full of hollyhocks was on the south side of the milkhouse. I don't know what her trick was, but every summer she had the most beautiful hollyhocks, and many different colors.

 Unsure who to credit with this photo

Not my grandma's flowerbed, but similar

After haying, the hay wagons would be pulled into the barn, and a hay elevator was set up against the hay loft to transfer the bales to the loft. After that was done, my cousins and I would use the old rope that was tied to one of the rafters and swing out over the floor below and drop into the loose hay. There must have always been a pile of loose hay there, for I don't remember getting any broken bones from that adventure.

Holstein Heifers on lunch break

In my mind, although it may have been far from reality, there was a seamless transfer of my grandpa's farm to my uncle, for nothing changed much for me. We still played with cousins in the barn, still rode the toboggan behind the horse on winter afternoons, still enjoyed the sounds, smells, and animals of the tidy dairy barn.

It was a rather magical time, especially in the mind of a child who didn't realize all the hard work that was involved in creating the carefree setting that I enjoyed. And now, whenever I see a pretty blood-red barn, I am reminded of my grandpa's barn and the halcyon days of my childhood (with a few exceptions)..

Maybe that's why I like to take photos of the barns which are rapidly disappearing from the Wisconsin landscape.  I want to have a record to show the generation who may never get to see the real thing. It's too late for me to get a photo of my grandpa's barn, for it's been gone for several years.

And that reminds me - I'm terrible about actually getting my photos printed out. I need to have hard copies, rather than having them only available in cyberspace!

How about you?

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