You might also like

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Time

When I was an ideal (istic) teenager, I would sing Malvinia Reynolds, little boxes, made of ticky-tacky, little boxes on the hillside, and feel superior, and of the generation that would save the world. We were rather rude and offensive.

The generation was good in its beginning, but many lost the way to sloth and, face it, self preservation. Job, car, house, children...It may improve.

I moved here thirty years ago, from a suburb where I lived next door to the farmer who sold his land to the developer who built my house. I loved Gus. He took care of his wife until she died. He moved to Tennessee, to live with a son. I got one post card from him, in pencil, in old man writing: I miss you. Love, Gus. I never wrote back.

When I moved here, I was in the middle of farms, or golf courses that once were farms. And I worked, and paid for a house and a cargo van. When I retired that weaving job I took up as township fiscal officer. I began to pay attention to my township, once farms to its corners, with a tiny village in the middle.

I noticed most the barns. We had cow barns and horse barns. I think more horse barns than cow barns, because there were many gentlemen farmers and summer residents here, with ponies for the children. Between two large industrial cities.

Even as I noticed them, the barns were deteriorating. I began taking pictures, because I knew what was happening. I've posted enough barn pictures to bore every one of you to two deaths; that's not today's purpose.

Today Laura and Kay are out hiking the last trail to earn the staff and badge. When they get back, Laura and I are going to a play at the Weathervane Playhouse. Afterwards, supper somewhere with spaghetti and meatballs.

In the meantime, I went down the road and took a picture of the fate of one of my favorite barns. This barn was in Northampton, annexed by and now part of Cuyahoga Falls, the city creeping up the road.

I don't know Northampton's history as well as Boston's, so I don't know the farm. I do know it became a clay pigeon range, and that development was stalled for about ten years of picture taking while the soil was remediated from lead shot.









People must have somewhere to live, I remind myself often. The Preserve at Salt Creek. Now, that is ostentatious, unless they're accounting for all the saltpeter in the soil.

28 comments:

  1. What is that little building stuck on the backside of these houses? Laundry? Such an odd look.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Grief...having to live cheek by jowl with s many people...
    I hve never understood why people moving to Costa Rica want to buy flats, or houses in gated communities where they live hugger mugger...
    Why come for goodness' sake if that is how you want to live.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I think it's a "breakfast nook." Especially since the builder indicates a deck will be built at some time, through that french door.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Yes, progress comes at a high cost, doesn't it.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Progress has it's costs. Whenever we gain, something is lost. Often the net is a step backwards.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sad to see the actual implosion of the old barn. Weatherbeaten and sagging is one thing; falling down seems so much worse, somehow.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I mourn the barns, and would hate to live in those little boxes. On the hillside or anywhere else.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I know we need affordable housing, but I mourn the loss of open land.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Saltpeter🙄. Linda@Wetcreek Blog

    ReplyDelete
  10. When I first moved back near the town where I attended high school I barely recognized the place. Everything is so different. Many downtown buildings are replaced by newer models. Over time things tend to change I guess.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Hari OM
    It's a global phenomenon; both necessary and haunting... photographic records are so valuable. YAM xx

    ReplyDelete
  12. I feel an ache in my heart every time a see an abandoned farm. Such an important part of the economy and our history gone to ruin. It makes me sad!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Small farms have a hard time finding their niche in a world of huge corporate farms. Around here, the only old-fashioned mix farming is done by the Mennonites and Amish. -Jenn

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And they survive because the mixed farming allows for self-sufficiency.

      Delete
  14. I hope none of the lead from all that lead shot filtered down into the groundwater.
    It's true, people must have somewhere to live, and these days there are so many more people. So more homes get built on smaller blocks with little or no yard space which means each house must be just a wee bit bigger so the people have a room or two inside for playing or relaxing.
    I love the barn photos.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Its sad to see buildings deteriorated like the old barn. You want to know the history of it and you know that it was once very useful and had a loving family that tended whatever it stored. We're amazed here where we'll be driving on a major street and see livestock out in the field and a barn. Wonder for how long.

    betty

    ReplyDelete
  16. I have noticed that builders are now putting houses much closer together. I am so glad I bought our house 15 years ago when having land and space to enjoy life was more the way. I have to admit that I live where a farm once stood.

    ReplyDelete
  17. I just wish they wouldn't build on the best farming land.
    Then we import food....

    ReplyDelete
  18. population control would help a good deal of all the loss I think, we don't recognize the coastline here, we came 20 years ago and now they have condos and a few high rise ones right on the beach, needed money more than nature I guess, the money keep the economy afloat but all the building destroys the estuaries which keep the oceans full of food, hum - a third of mankind's food comes from the ocean; I love old barns, when we lived in arkansas we had a 100 old barn still standing made of white oak cut from that property, too bad some don't turn the old barns into homes, the central valley of California filled with homes, some of the best farming land in our country, oh brother

    ReplyDelete
  19. Here in the UK, builders have been given a virtual green light to build as many horrible little houses as they want. They are supposed to be affordable to young first time buyers, but of course they are not.

    ReplyDelete
  20. that subdivision is where that barn was? yes, people need someplace to live but they don't need humongous houses. I'm so glad not to be living in the city anymore and I hate having to go into Houston now, a place I barely recognize it changes so fast. driving back I see the creep of subdivisions coming my way. they extend much farther than when we first bought this place.

    ReplyDelete
  21. Here in Central Florida it is all about development - building big, ridiculously expensive houses that all look alike in gated communities in areas prone to sinkholes and alligators where people shouldn't even be living.

    ReplyDelete
  22. I love rustic barns, and the dilapidation of these is just sad.

    ReplyDelete
  23. It's sad to watch the past fall apart--in so many ways.

    Love,
    Janie

    ReplyDelete
  24. Ticky Tacky is everywhere. I never heard that song until it became the theme song for the "Weeds" series. I like the photo series. It's kind of sad to see a big field become a neighborhood, though. At least, that's the way I feel. I'd probably feel differently if it were my new home.

    ReplyDelete
  25. Maybe the wood could be salvaged and sold to someone looking for that authentic rustic touch. It does evoke a feeling of sadness, tho.

    ReplyDelete
  26. They're very nice houses but they don't have the barn's charm . Never mind , once growing families have knocked them about a bit , they'll look less crisp .

    ReplyDelete
  27. So sad to see the barn falling down. But beautiful new homes!!

    ReplyDelete