Saturday, April 23, 2016

Reclaimed Quaker Hill Farm Barn

As the old saying goes, all good things must come to an end!  Such was the case of the old Quaker Hill Farm Barn.  I hated to see it go, but it was becoming very dangerous and in need of much repair.  One of our gracious farmers brought the barn down, (Thanks,  Erich) but before it came down, our sons reclaimed quite a bit of the wood.  This made me very happy!  I was able to keep one of the old barn doors and will show in another post very soon what I am planning to do with it!  

Our oldest grandson diligently took down quite a bit of the great patina wood from the outside of the barn to redo our son's basement.  The following are a few pics of just how neat it turned out. 

The Brick in their basement had formerly been white.  Our daughter-in-law painstakingly painted each brick in barn reds, charcoal, and grays.  It matches the old wood so well.

In one corner they have made a seating area on a raised platform.  As you can see in the picture they have used all of the elements of brick and the old barn wood to complete the look.

This barn was in our family for several generations.  I am not exactly sure of its age, but most likely was built in the early 1900's.  Grandfather Walthall, Uncles, dad, my sister and I, my husband and our sons all have used this old barn for one purpose or another. 

It was not so much the barn itself, but the many memories that it held.

My mind wanders back to remembering milking cows, 4-H beef cows, pigs, Banty roosters, skunks, raccoons, horses, and snakes.  This barn is where my dad tried to teach me to milk a cow!  He had the knack, I certainly did not!  I never did master that one!  

This is where a bull chased my sister and I and another just about killed my uncle.  This is where I was not smart enough to let go of a baby calf I was trying to give an injection and it threw me up against the side of the barn.  

Memories of hay being sent up to the haymow for the winter cow feed.  Memories of black Angus cattle huddling together in the snow and coming into the barn for shelter. 

 Watching my Uncle George as he did his daily chores.  After he finished he would always stop in and chat for a bit before he went back home. Precious memories for sure.  As I write this, tears come to my eyes thinking about all of these precious things.

It is missed and certainly has changed the landscape, but seeing what our one son has done with the wood, it will live on!   The memories are so precious to me! I can't wait to see the projects our two other sons will do with what they have saved! 

Linking to the following lovely parties:

2.  The Art of Homemaking Mondays

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