All proceeds (minus shipping and packing) will benefit www.firstbook.org, a non-profit that provides new books to children from low-income families throughout the U.S. and Canada.
MaryJane will post a photo of the prop and its cost here along with a few details as to its condition. The first person to call the farm and talk with Brian, 208-882-6819, becomes the new owner of a little bit of herstory. Shipping will be either USPS or UPS, our choice. No returns.
Ahhhh..one of the best, most precious things out there, the old red barn! Perfectly framed in this photo! ❤
The old Red Barn. Once it’s walls were filled with cows diving into fresh rations of hay and a Farmer who made his lively hood producing milk. The Red Barn intimately knew the cycle of seasons, like when the windows were open and harvested hay was being hauled to the top level for these very cold months. Kitties hung around and kept the mice and rats at bay and were rewarded with plates of fresh milk twice a day after miking. What stories this place could tell of the generations who built it, reparied it, and treated it with kindness. A sturdy barn was key to keeping healthy livestock when the weather turned ugly in the deep of Winter. It was both a refuge and resource and most often the first building put up when settling into a new homestead. To own a nice barn represented a kind of wealth; almost like money in the bank.
What does this lovely American icon hold today?
An old truck and other odds and ends. It’s my neighbor’s barn. A real beauty!
I have your box ready to ship tomorrow. It is small flat rate so be on the lookout cause it won’t be enjoying your cold cold temps!! Hehehe, are you curious?
Very much so:)
Love the barn. When I saw it, I immediately thought,”I wonder what’s inside?”.
I remember riding behind my Grandpa on his tractor, calling old Bessie the milk cow in for milking. We’d get to the barn, and watch the proceedings with great interest (we were city kids). Grandpa always had a passel of kittens in the barn, which was warmer inside and smelled of sweet hay. My cousins and I would play in the loft, jumping into the bales of hay and ending up with it in our hair, and clothes. At the end of the day, tired and dirty children were called in for baths and supper. We knew we were loved.