Today, Moise and his family began bringing their horse buggies and horses into the new barn. Tomorrow, they spread straw and hay. The horses seemed very content in their new stalls, plenty of hay and grain. It was dry, comfortable, and roomy. No bugs, no wind, no glaring sun, no rain.
This week, Moise is adding insulation to the downstairs all around the outer walls in preparation for the winter. Soon, goats and sheep will be joining the horses.
The barn was quiet, the space is well ventilated, a breeze came softly along the central walkway.
The stalls are beautiful, solid, and spacious. The troughs are full of hay and feed.
Harnesses
There are three carts in the barn now, they will be protected from the wind and cold and rain. They look like they very much belong there.
I very much enjoy seeing the barn come slowly to life. It has dignity and presence..
Every day, there are more things here, more carts, harnesses, buckets, shovels. Hour by hour, the barn is becoming a living thing, an extension of the
I’ve lived with barns for 15 years now, and I love their ability to absorb and attract life. They speak to life and death in a way very few structures do.
The barn becomes a living thing, an organic extension of a barn. It soaks up all the history around it.
I never had a barn quite as big or well designed as this one, the American farmers who built mine were strapped, they didn’t have a small army to help them.
Many built their barns by themselves.
Their farms were simpler and seemed to grow out of the ground. They last a very long time until the sun and rain and snow and wind just melt them down into the ground.
Moise is very proud of his barn, it will change life for him and his family on the farm. It’s a beautiful thing, it’s wonderful to see animals in their eating their hay and grain so peacefully.
I need to ask him where the manure is going. I’m sure it will not go to waste.
Nothing does on his farm.
Jon, I’ve noticed an interesting thing about your writing style since you’ve been covering your new neighbors and their community. Your words are simpler, plainer, more clear. Shorter sentences. Less tension. Obviously more awe. Moise and Eli and their community are rubbing off on you and calming your writing. I like it and I like the reason why. You feel more at peace.
Thanks, Laurie, I’m not sure my writing style has changed – but then I’m not a reader – but I agree with you. I do feel more at peace, although I haven’t yet figured out why. Thanks for the good and thoughtful words. I also think it was a good and long overdue move to stop arguing with people on my website. I don’t need to do that, and I don’t like to do it.
Jon, you’ve influenced me in that regard as well. I keep thinking I can help them to see where they’re falling short in their views. But it just exhausts me, and then nothing changes. Now, I see each post I read as an opportunity to practice patience. Acceptance is the answer to all of my problems today.
One of the things that is wonderful about the Amish barn is how neat and tidy it is. There’s a “place for everything and everything in its place.” I’m afraid it’s rather the opposite of my house!
The craftsmanship of those barns is beautiful. I am glad you are enjoying the process of meeting your neighbors and watching this barn come to life.
I agree with Laurie!
What breed?
Tennessee Walkers?
I’m going to guess Standardbred, racing trotters from Canada. Sold at auction after their careers are over. Already broke to drive, used to loud crowds and handling. They are also gaited.