I come from a farming family……kind of. Except we didn’t sell farm produce. We consumed it. Primarily we had milk-producing goats. This was the most normal thing in the world, and only later did I find out what a strange experience this is compared to others. Other farm-ish animals were involved as well: rabbits, a cow, a horse, cats, dogs, and bee hives also consisted daily life. We also had a lot of garden space that needed constant attention. My parents are industrious folks, and they leaned into the self-sufficiency thing.
To me, the barn was always special. It was a basic shelter, and it protected the livestock in the harshest weather. There was nothing fancy about it: basic white tin siding, manual garage door, and brown shingles. Yet I found myself coming back to it again and again. Many times, I would wander into it with nothing in particular to accomplish. I probably thought I was “checking” on the animals, but it was more like exploration.
I did the same thing at my grandpa’s farm. His barns were much bigger than ours, and the animals were long gone by the time I showed up. I remember finding old equipment, opening and closing ancient doors, and jumping from the hay mow. To me, a barn was a spacious place that allowed curiosity to find her way.
Notes From the Barn is built to be like that space. It’s a weekly piece of writing about an insight, a curiosity, or an experience. The writing will not be focused on engaging others necessarily….just myself. The goal is to have a basic shelter to explore something. To think about it. Maybe to come back and check on from time to time…. -BRB
