When we first moved to the Mid West, I envisioned rambling farmhouses and huge traditional barns scattered across the landscape.
Maybe even owning such.
I mean, that's what I'd grown to love visiting NW Iowa as a child!
The barn where I had milk squirted in my mouth straight from the cow, the barnyard with the hogs behind the pen and the geese that snipped my backside were all in my memory!
I remember the surprise of Uncle Berdett swatting that same backside when I was trying to hook me a chicken through the chickenwire fence.
(This little girl from L.A. was completely inept so he had no cause for concern.)
In 1991 I brought home to Cali a barnboard from that old barn, by then barely standing.
Sadly I don't know where that board is now.
After we moved here I would often squeal in delight when I spied a well loved and maintained barn and express sadness upon sighting a neglected structure.
Eventually it became the family joke.
ANY barn we passed would have one of the kids asking me, "Could you love that barn, Mom?" But I still find myself remarking, "Nobody loves that barn," or "I could love that barn!"
Today, driving my students back from Contest, we pulled into the Arby's in Carthage, and peeking from behind the motel next door I saw again the barn I'd promised myself a coupla months ago that I would photograph.
Isn't that "banner" really neat?
I wonder what it said?
"Harper Family Farms?"
"Jones' Dairy?"
Imagine the years of service that this beauty provided.
The yard is still manicured and cared for but it has been many many years since new paint has graced those boards.
As we came around the corner, we saw "the rest of the story".
Nobody loves this barn. She will one day completely cave in and then tumble over on herself as so many have already succumbed.
But I will give her a wink and a nod as long as she stands.
I "could" love this barn... but she's not mine.
Maybe even owning such.
I mean, that's what I'd grown to love visiting NW Iowa as a child!
The barn where I had milk squirted in my mouth straight from the cow, the barnyard with the hogs behind the pen and the geese that snipped my backside were all in my memory!
I remember the surprise of Uncle Berdett swatting that same backside when I was trying to hook me a chicken through the chickenwire fence.
(This little girl from L.A. was completely inept so he had no cause for concern.)
In 1991 I brought home to Cali a barnboard from that old barn, by then barely standing.
Sadly I don't know where that board is now.
After we moved here I would often squeal in delight when I spied a well loved and maintained barn and express sadness upon sighting a neglected structure.
Eventually it became the family joke.
ANY barn we passed would have one of the kids asking me, "Could you love that barn, Mom?" But I still find myself remarking, "Nobody loves that barn," or "I could love that barn!"
Today, driving my students back from Contest, we pulled into the Arby's in Carthage, and peeking from behind the motel next door I saw again the barn I'd promised myself a coupla months ago that I would photograph.
Isn't that "banner" really neat?
I wonder what it said?
"Harper Family Farms?"
"Jones' Dairy?"
Imagine the years of service that this beauty provided.
The yard is still manicured and cared for but it has been many many years since new paint has graced those boards.
As we came around the corner, we saw "the rest of the story".
Nobody loves this barn. She will one day completely cave in and then tumble over on herself as so many have already succumbed.
But I will give her a wink and a nod as long as she stands.
I "could" love this barn... but she's not mine.
