Adventures in Spejunking

Exploring a cave is called spelunking, so I think exploring a barn on the hunt for cool old junk should be called spejunking. I'm sure the staff at the Oxford dictionary will agree.

Cool old junk like this 80's vintage can

Officially, Robert and I were cleaning out the little barn Saturday afternoon, but we had to take time to examine all the neat things we found. By the way, I say "little barn" to distinguish between the other outbuildings on the farm: the big barn, the goat barn, and the shelter. There's a lot of spejunking in my future.

The before shot

We had previously cleared out just enough space near the front of the barn so we could store some of our stuff in it, but there was still years of accumulated detritus in the back. Our plan is to turn the enclosed part of this barn into Craig's workshop.  Since he has promised to build me a farmhouse table I have a vested interest in getting the space ready for him soon!

The other before shot. There is no after shot...yet.

This barn was where my Granddaddy stored hay and feed, and then it became storage for everything else. There was about 4-6 inches of old hay, dirt, and corn cobs on the floor; under all the old furniture, tools, empty feed sacks, lumber, and who-knows-what-else.

Oh sure, it starts out happy, but we all know what you wind up with.
There's plenty of that in the outer part of the barn.

I'm actually happy about the old feedsacks and hay, because they made an excellent start to the new compost pile (soon to be joined by the horse manure).  It was a substantial start, too: Robert and I made multiple trips with our extra-large wheelbarrow, and we only shoveled out about a quarter of the barn.  We ran out of energy before we ran out of barn.

One of the cool finds was this old propane heater, that we think may have come from my grandparent's old house in Wildwood, Florida.  I think it is really neat piece and would love to repurpose it...suggestions welcome!

Ready for a new life

We also found this old horse collar and a plow.  I don't know for sure, but I suspect it belonged to my great-grandfather.  I had to just stop for a few minutes when I realized he had probably used these tools while farming the very land I'm tending now.  

One size fits all?

Back when men were men and horses were horses.

I have a lot of little moments like that on the farm, where I just have to stop for a minute and take it all in. I'm so fortunate to have this family heritage and I frequently find myself just looking around in awe at all we've been blessed with.   Even if it is a lot of work!