Sunday, October 4, 2015

barn clean out

I went looking for everyone this weekend when I suddenly realized it was very quiet and no one had traipsed through the kitchen recently -- even though I had been making dinner.  So I walked around outside.  And came upon this.


Oh, man.  Jonathan is on a cleaning blitz.  I am not complaining.  But it was getting dark.  This barn of ours.  I love it so.  And it seems, with each season's end, and the resulting change in toys and tools and gear and stuff  that each season requires, it needs a clean out.  Things are sent to the curb with a FREE sign.  Grown out of toys are donated.  And bikes are replaced with skis, boots with cleats, snow shovels with lawn mowers.


Not wanting to get in his way of course, and in the kids' way, since they were somehow delightedly helping him and singing and dancing and having a fabulous time, I walked around the outside.



A stray lacrosse ball, during a paritcularly wonky game of weird lacrosse, recently broke a high window in the barn.  And somehow, I kind of love it.  


It's like we marked this old beast of a building, who has seen so much.  Had so many different purposes, people, and things within it.  As ours.  For now.

Soon, it was tidied.



So Jonathan and the kids rode off on a neighborhood bike tour before dinner, and before dark.  I had a few moments with my barn.  Quiet and old and weathered and good.

Our things, our current things, those things change with seasons and years and length of legs and size of foot.  But then there are all the marks and found treasures and cracks and texture of the years before us.


















And then I took that walk back to the house that so many before us have walked.  And finished up dinner to warm everyone up when they got back.  Got back to the work of living here.  Weathering this place ourselves.


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