It’s been ten days since the start of the barn project. The concrete workers finished yesterday although they will return to complete the outside aprons once the rest of the structural work is done. I liked the concrete guys. They have been together as a crew for a long time and had a quiet, easy rhythm to their way of working. Gordy liked them, too. Pours were done early and he and his morning cup of coffee were often hosting the cleanup phase.
The framers are here now and the energy level has notched up considerably. The crew is generally young. They play 80’s rock music loudly, work without shirts (or, I assume, sun screen), hang from crazy angles off trusses, and carry too large loads of wood up wobbly ramps. They are redneck and rough and, in my presence, unfailingly polite. At days end, you can see that their work is solid and precise.
For the last ten days, the weather gods had been smiling upon us, but our luck ran out this evening. The framing crew told us it was coming. We buttoned down as best we could which really only applies to hay and equipment.
No barn is no barn and the horses were forced to wait out the rain under the oak trees.
They stand as a loose herd with their heads turned away from the direction of the storm. No one moves or so it seems, except for the donkeys who are irritated at the wetness and shove each other around as if fighting for the one dry spot on the bus. I feel guilty watching all of this from the house and send them wordless promises of how things will be so very shortly.
Sophie and Gracie are even less happy about the storm. The thunder unnerves them and they become panting, clinging, shaking puddles of need. We pull out their “thunder shirts” and Rescue Remedy and gather on the bed for group hugs. The thunder shirt is an amazing act of kindness for Sophie. She zones into some never-never-land that we try not to disturb her from.
Gracie does not go to never-never-land, but at least she can hold her own space.
The barn is not the only place we have made progress. We have finished a section of the porch; an outdoor room of sorts, which means it, too, is drying out from the rain storm.
There are a few back stories here. First, that chandelier hanging over the seating area? Here’s a closer look, I mean a REALLY closer look:
Now, here’s a look at what it USED to look like:
This little beauty was hanging in the foyer before we wrestled it to the ground, dismantled it, and introduced it to a generous dose of chalk paint. Seriously awesome transformation in my humble opinion.
Second, we added a lovely little table for serving refreshments as you would so likely want when enjoying your outdoor space.
It, like the chandelier, had a past life, in this case, a beat-up butcher block table from Ikea which we actually hauled here from California (having been hauled there from Minnesota in about the same state):
Somehow, now, that all seems worth it. And someday soon, we will be experiencing the “worth-it-ness” of the barn project. Someday. Soon.