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By Barbara Hugron Shea
"Where ya goin? Down't tha
bahn!" Growing up on a New Hampshire farm is among my happiest
recollections. To me the barn offered the greatest source
of entertainment day or night, winter or summer. There were
countless things to do, observe and enjoy.
The companionship among the animals and their response to
us was most evident. Horses, cattle, sheep and pigs occupied
their respective positives, each knowing their own area
with seldom an exception. During the cold days and long
nights of winter there seemed to be a special contentment
among the occupants. The milking was done morning and evening.
The lantern light made eerie shadows. It seemed I was frequently
between the lantern and my dad, thus obliterating his source
of light. He would do the milking, hay and grain the cattle
and horses, clean them out and bed them down for the night.
The dog and cats would wait patiently for their portion
of warm milk. Often while milking, Dad would aim and squirt
the milk at the cats, who would make a real demonstration
of disgust while they licked their paws and face with obvious
pleasure in anticipation of the saucer of milk which would
be theirs when milking was done. Frequently upon entering
the barn on a winter night a cat could be found curled up
sleeping comfortably in the hollow on the back of a reclining
cow. The barn was a very peaceful place in winter when happy
animal noises occasionally interrupted the quiet. The cold
wind and snow outside were no hindrance to the comfort,
companionship and serenity within.
Spring arrived with new activities in the barn. The animals
spent more time in the barnyard as they enjoyed the warm
sunlight and unfrozen watering tub. The lambs began to arrive
in March. It was always a delightful surprise when you discovered
a newborn calf, lamb or colt. Well tended by the mother
animal, it never ceased to be amazing how self-sufficient
they became in just a few hours. It was always a ritual
to become acquainted with the new arrival, determine its
personality and choose a name on which we could all agree.
It was in the summer when the cattle and sheep were out
to pasture that we found many interesting things to do.
On a rainy day it was fun to lie up in the hayloft, listen
to the rain on the roof and watch the swallows fly in and
out to feed their young in nests high up in the rafters.
At times a barn owl might be seen sleeping during the daylight
hours. At night bats would fly in and out feeding on insects.
These were rarely visible during the day unless disturbed.
The mother cat had her kittens under the eaves at least
an arms length down in the sweet smelling hay. We would
watch for her and then discover the wee balls of fur with
unopened eyes safely hidden from danger. We were curious
to learn what colors they would be and choose our favorites.
In a few days they would be out frisking in the hay. When
sufficiently grown, mother cat would carry them down in
her mouth to a new and challenging abode under the barn.
The neatly piled wood for the kitchen stove was stored in
the barn. In our imaginations this resembled a shoe store.
We would pretend selecting a "box of shoes" pulling out
a stick, trying on, expressing our likes and dislikes and
replacing the stick of wood, not always in its proper position.
We could only go so far with this pastime however, without
some adverse opinion from Dad.
The grain bin was an interesting place. It had a fragrance
all its own. On a very hot summer day, no place seemed so
cool as to climb into the bin of oats and bury our bare
feet and legs in the cool grain. It seemed to retain the
night temperature well into the day.
There was a harness room where the dress harnesses, saddle
and sleigh bells were hung. This room also contained a zinc-lined
chest along one wall where the horse blankets and buffalo
robes were stored in the summer. Also there was generally
a burlap bag of butternuts stored away from mice and squirrels.
There was a special niche in the stone wall outside the
barn where we would crack the nuts. My dad did his own blacksmithing,
so we could always find a box of shiny new horseshoe nails
on the bench which made fine nut picks.
During the summer the haying was accomplished, filling the
mows with new sweet hay, There was a stairway to the loft,
but also wooden pegs set in the upright beams which offered
a much more interesting challenge to ones climbing skills.
Climbing around on the rafters was great fun as well as
jumping down from there into the wagonload of hay on the
barn floor. Dad would frequently join us in this activity.
Early morning sunshine streaking through the barn windows
spotlighted the spiders practicing their tight rope acts.
They knew instinctively where to spin their webs to capture
the insects which entered through the open windows.
One first day of school my sister ran eagerly into the barn
to tell Dad we were ready to leave and accidentally fell
through the scuttle behind the cows and on down into the
pigpen! I don't think she was nearly as startled as the
two squealing pigs who resided there, but we were late for
school!
At one point the large yellow house (on Dublin Rd.) was
being painted. The blinds were painted in the barn on rainy
days. In order to obtain the desired intensity of green,
lampblack was added to the paint to darken it. We two girls
decided it would be fun to black our faces. Amid much giggling
I had finished my sister's face, observing how the process
accented the whites of her eyes and her teeth. She had made
a good start on me when we were discovered. I will never
forget the clean up process- relays of soap and water, turpentine
and scrubbing. We detected a twinkle in Mother's eyes despite
her disapproval of our mischief. I really don't recall much
punishment; perhaps our parents concluded the clean-up process
was discipline enough! No doubt the inspiration came from
attending the Minstrel Shows which were annual events in
the town hall.
Numerous fascinating tools were to be found; such as carpenter
tools, grindstone, winnowing machine, corn shucker, cider
press and more, all of importance to the needs of the farmer.
In the barnyard was the blue dumpcart, haywagon, mowing
machine and hay rake, which I enjoyed operating. There was
a separate storage shed in which during the winter the buckboard,
democrat wagon and carriages were kept. In summer it housed
the two-seated sleigh pulled by a pair of horses, the pung,
the logging scoot and the one horse sleigh in which we rode
to school with bells on the horse Daisy.
Now the barn is empty. No whinnying horses, no mooing cattle,
no friendly dogs or cats. Even the weathervane has disappeared.
The goldenrod and sumac grow ever closer to the barnyard
gate obscuring the sights and sounds of a happy childhood.
Barbara Shea was born in Hancock Sept. 1914. She wrote this
essay for her daughter. |