Our daughter brings the granddogs when she comes to help fix the barn for company.

Lots of Work and a Little Miracle…
Plans for The Big Weekend actually begin last summer, when I mention to my Batesville YMCA arthritis water aerobics class that I would like to host them for a picnic when the hollyhocks bloom at the farmstead. Then I reason, while the borrowed table and chairs are here, we can have a barn celebration the same weekend.
I quickly run the idea past Ray and probably do not wait for his comments. That is quite possible. He will surely have the last of the barn renovation done by then. The finish of the six-year project merits a celebration.
Replacing the barn door track for the main doors is first on Ray’s summer barn attack. We arrange a family barn party. Daughter Jennie and husband Frank come from Arkansas to help. Daughter Allison joins them.
Jennie and Frank travel with our granddogs, Lilly and Tiger. When they retired and set up permanent living in Arkansas, the first thing Jennie did was get two puppies. They are a year old now. We have no fenced in area at the farmstead and I must confess the dear ones are not welcome in the house. Poor things have to spend their nights in hallway between the kitchen and garage. (There the bored pair chews up their beds.) At first they have free roam outside, until they roam a little to close to busy Highway 48 just 40 feet from the house. Then they are put on leashes.
The second morning when the work crew opens the outside door, Lilly and Tiger bolt through. They make a couple playful circles around the yard, then immediately zip down the bank and across Highway 48. Jennie, after seeing their daring dash, quickly calls them back not realizing a flatbed semi is approaching from the east. The good dogs obey their master’s call and head back to the yard with not mind to the semi. I watch from my sunroom window in horror, “This can’t be happening.”
Brakes squeal as Lilly bolts directly in front of the semi. In seconds, she rolls across the highway, scrambles to her feet, flies up the bank and across the yard to find refuge under the barn. The semi driver stops up the road a piece. I somehow find myself outside and heading toward him. “Did I hit her? I sure hope not.” This kind driver is concerned about Lilly and not that he has left a most impressive set of tire tracks on the pavement.
“She seemed alright as she flew across the yard. I do not want to even think about her getting killed. She is a granddog you know. Thanks for your concern.” I can tell he understands.
Ray has to remove barn floorboards to retrieve Lilly. She has only a quarter-sized skinned mark on her head, does not appear lame or even stiff. Dear readers, it is a miracle. Is it okay to be thankful for such miracles? It appears to be one. Indeed, I say, “Thank you, Jesus,” with great sincerity.
Other than the miraculous event, the track goes on smoothly in two days. Unfortunately, Ray has a sinus problem and cannot take advantage of his help who are staying a couple more days for a birthday celebration. I sure hate to see everyone just sitting around. Even I cannot find any jobs for them.
A week later, cured and back to a working mood, Ray finds heaps of rotten timber under the removed siding. Work. Work. Work. Also he decides to make a new door, so he can open up the stable area end-to-end and drive through. He builds a “three plywood” wide door in the main area of the barn. No easy task, but then it has to be moved to the back to be hung. He has a plan. He loads it on the pickup, takes it to the back of the barn and slides it off. He hoists it up with Big Blue. About then I arrive to “help.” (Those you that know me can imagine that scene.) I guide the door dangling in the air from the lift. Somehow we get it within inches of the track with the tractor. I stumble around but manage to put blocks under the door as Ray hand lifts it. We are a great team until his shoulder decides it does not like the project one bit and lets him know it. We finally get it on the track, but our barn renovation must be delayed until Ray’s shoulder heals.
After some rest and with painful determination, Ray manages to get the top siding off and replaces with metal, which will be painted when it cures. Just adding a little bit of the top metal is all that remains to be done.
Cleaning the barn is quite a project even though my first impression is “it isn’t so bad.” Lets say a fire burned for days. It appears every board on the farmstead has been saved for years no matter the size, shape or how many nails it contained. Cleaning the barn proves to be a major project.
I am also preparing for The Big Weekend. I put together a display of pictures and information that gives the history of the farm. The refreshments are prepared.
Times flies by and The Big Weekend arrives. We entertain my water aerobics class on a rainy Friday night. Poor Ray actually roasted wieners during a shower. Thankfully, it moves on quickly. It is a good evening with friends.
Then the big barn Sunday arrives. At one o’clock sharp a gentleman and his family appear. He warmly greets me, “I feel like I know you, I have read your column for years.” Immediately, I know it is going to be a great day.
Next month. Bring on the Mulberry Pie
Doris Butt 13545 E. St. Rd. 48 Milan, In. 47031 812 623 2918
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