I Farm, You Farm, Old Barns, New Barns

           Twas a good night’s sleep thanks to the physical efforts of yesterday. And that was a good thing as Saturday had a full day on tap with things touching most every project I’m working on these days, all bundled up in one (and that one involved a two-hour drive half a state away...I will say Jeep time is some of my best creative  time, especially when it involves country roads.)

            Was headed North of LaFayette…almost to Kentucky (home of Thurman’s favorite goat chow and half the tobacco grown in this country)...Twas a drive to pass all drives as you can’t get there by interstate, what’s more your phone won’t work once you pass the county line. It was if God was saying “Take it slowly, Evins...Yes, there’s work to be done, but what you are about to witness is placing you on holy ground...”

            For the sake of projects to come, my film crew was likewise en route. My own camera in the back seat, this was a day I’d anticipated for some while as today marked the day my barn would be birthed!

            For those new to me, this blog or the concept of anything renovation, I love making old things new again. In my 30s it was a church ( now my home). Today, a barn. For months I’ve been sketching on plans to afford my goats winter shelter (complete with milking stations), and my pups summer comforts of air ( as in a/c...OMG...Can you imagine my family Christmas? TJ has no clue. Big headed dog is about to think he’s died and gone to heaven with this gift....I'm wrapping a whole holiday picture shoot around it!)
           In addition, the plan is to create living quarters for my new farm manager (see Karlen plan big) --a dwelling place for the saint who is soon to keep watch over said goats and dogs—(literally, so Karlen can keep writing)

            As was the case with my church, these structures don’t by design, come with living quarters…One must get creative. Making bathtubs out of baptisteries can challenge even the best of minds. Adding showers above stables…? Well, you just gotta think it through.

            But before all that (for me at least) I wanted my new structure to carry old vibes…and for that one needs a falling down barn.

            With thanks to my carpenter visionary Jeff, we’ve worked and reworked my designs 20-ways to Sunday and have collected numerous bits of wood, tin and metal so as to keep the new structure looking old. But when he called to say he’d found a barn whose timbers would complete the outside entirely (with some left over so as to support future projects in the works), well I was game to see what my wood-enthusiast friend had up his sleeve. (Turns out he undersold the proposition…What I drove up to on this day had a life and a spirit all its own…the likes of which I had not lived since first  stepping foot inside a little country church in Nutbush, TN ...Now living in Lebanon.)

            Barn crews were pulling planks when I arrived. (When told this was  country, they were not kidding. Thinking owners had to go toward town to hunt.)

            To see its bones, feel its essence, breathe in a barn created on the cusp of the civil war was one thing. But to watch a 220 pound man jumping on its steps (its loft, its beams)  just to prove to me how well they made ‘em back then…well that’s another thing entirely...(Where to file this?)  In for an all new experience, I was mic'd and note-booked, rear in' to go...While waiting for my crew, I made an office of the loft.)

            It's a  gift to know which woods are what (outer planks -- oak; inside--chestnut and cedar and hickory)...But greater skills lie in recognizing the priceless value of trees grown naturally vs. those replaced and replanted by big business/big government feigning efforts to reforest. (As my man Jeff put it, "You'll never seen them like this again...Just not enough time..."Sadly, I knew what he meant.)
           Plan was to pull outer planks first, raise inside boards next, then stack everything useable (a good 80-85% -- another rarity). We'd pull support beams last (for which you really do want a camera)... I’d never seen this done before (the church, a slightly different process)…But for a barn, goal is to collapse it upon itself. 
            I'd signed off on the plan... I was keen on the idea. But the rest was up to crews, Mother Nature and God.

            I interviewed the players, shot footage of her guts (upstairs, outsides, close ups)...and was now waiting on the big drop, with an hour or so till lift off, so with 45 to an hour to spare,  I meandered  to the owners…strangers I had not met, (nor intended to). 
           Turns out, these people were even more remarkable than the barn itself, which is to say—I'd been given a jewel of a jewel tucked away inside a jewel of a day... (and little did I know, this was only about to get better)

            “Are you the lady who’s taking our barn?” she smiled as she asked me…

            “And are you the kind soul who's letting me?” (I smiled her right back, but really, hadn't planned to talk to her at all.)

            But I liked her. I really liked her...As we struck up a conversation, her family went to pull me up a (lawn) chair. (Not to be all Jerry McGuire about it, but she had me from hello.... )

            The barn would've required a full overhaul were it to remain on her land. Yes, the lumber was solid. But when she said, “We don’t need a barn so much as we need is a garden on that plot...” 
Well, you can only imagine where the conversation went from there…

            Turns out my new friend works with at-risk youth (boys, in particular... teens for which barns can be big huge temptations as she put it...that's why she was letting it go)... Taking total strangers (and teens at that) into her home, loving them as her own, instilling in them virtues, values ...if not a sense of hope…well these types you don’t meet everyday. I marveled at her story, but more than that, I marveled at the timing of it all...

            We could’ve talked the night away, but within the hour (maybe two) our moment of truth had arrived. “Karlen? You ready?” I got the head’s up call. With the foreman's clarion we moved our vehicles, redirected our chairs, and perked up to watch the show.

            I have to say I was struck by the confidence of the crew. I know they’ve done this sort of thing before…They had skills, talents and experience that more than qualified them. Still, every structure’s different. No matter how many times or how much you know, there’s a big chunk o' the “unknown” that just goes with it. I watched as they hooked massive chains, then belts, one support beam at a time to this beautiful (albeit falling down) structure...On the other end--(first) a 10 ton truck for stabilizing  (i.e. tension/support) ...Next, a ¾ ton truck with even larger belts, hooks and chains were poised and positioned to do the big drive-away pull.

            To say it was loud would be an understatement. But it was stimulating... For sure it wasn’t easy ( though they made it look so)...And I wasn’t at all confident after a couple of false tugs that the barn wanted to go home with me, but I assured her in silent prayer she was gonna love her new land if ever she chose to let go of the old...

            With each new pull, new support beams were nicked and axed. One by one she shifted, leaned, re-positioned herself, and in the end, readied herself for that one final yank into surrender.

            It took a couple more than the crews had bargained for. By this time we were taking bets as to which way, which attempt, what direction the thing might fall. But true to their God-given talents, the boys got it right and the barn did come down right where she was supposed to, and AS she was supposed to. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

            Promising my newfound friends that chairs would await them on the other end of this journey, we swapped info and mapped plans to talk further…about gardens, goats, projects for hands in need and dreams for hearts that care.

            We called it a day just as the rains began, making my twilight drive down a two-lane road something you don’t do very fast. Then again, I had a lot to reflect upon…A lot of God talking to do.... 
            Whatever is to come next, however it unfolds, it’s as mysterious to me as the moon. I only think I have a plan. (Beyond thinking, I'm praying...) But if today is any indication, my vision is probably nowhere to compare to what really lies in store…

            Here’s to new friends and old barns…

            And the richness of life lived in between.

(Additional pictures to follow...And demo footage if we can get it to upload!)