This is the inside of our barn. I don't know why we call this little building at the bottom of our garden "the barn". It's not that livestock were ever raised in here. Nor did we store hay or grain inside these walls. Living things have entered herein, though. At one time, our Emma's horse would frequent part of the barn, but she never liked to stay inside for long. Maybe she found it austere.
With master cobwebs like this, I would too. Not to mention the decomposition of fallen willow tree leaves on the 'sky-light' part of the roof.
She preferred the outdoors. The beauty of the paddock.
I would too. If this was my only other option.
The Machinist uses the barn, though. A lot of his 'I-can't-find-a-place-for-this- I know - the-barn!' items are stored in - the Barn.
Generations of cats and kittens would play and frolic in the barn, too. As did mice (not for long, though). And once, while moving brand new fence sheeting off the bare-soil floor, the last sheet revealed a sleepy Tiger snake. (I will never forget it. Nor will my daughters. I won't forget the terror of the snake. They won't forget the terror of my voice when I saw the snake).
The Barn has played host to useful things, too. Like props we used when we ran our cafe, The Daily Pie
We would use this light - like a beacon at night when we were expecting customers for evening functions.....
It's original home was in a local Theatre within our Shire...
And of course there is the faithful, hard working, manual-labour lawn mower. Oh, the number of lawns this fella has mowed. If only he could talk. He would tell you! He'd be glad to brag, too.
Which is more than I can say for this old dear. I suspect he needs some attention....
Then there is the fire fighting pump. He's pumped about his important role in the protection of our property against prospective bush fires (that's a lot of 'P's'). We're glad he's here, though. But shhhh....don't tell him, or else it may go to his head. He already thinks he's the cleanest, shiniest piece of equipment in the room.
Another guy ready for action. I think my son was 2 when he learned to use the chain saw.
Just kidding. That would mean that I would have had to start it for him by pulling this chord. That would never have happened. I'm not that tenacious. Or patient. Especially when there is no fuel in it to keep it running, and I wouldn't even know the difference.
And what is this treasure, hiding under that semi-rusty shelving? Oh, that's right. I remember now. It's a birthday gift. A potting wheel. Never used. Except for the assortment of beetles, spiders and other critters passing through it's parts.
All this to say - the Barn is on our Projects List for this year. We've been slowly but surely clearing it out and I'm happy to report that these last items may be the Barn's last occupants before the Big Makeover. The walls will be lined. A ceiling put in. A floor, too.