Over a year ago, while I was displaying birdhouses at Gathering on the Green in Wortley Village, a kind-hearted gentleman asked if I’d like a pile of barn board he had at home.
I said yes, heartily, and rescued it shortly thereafter from his basement, noting while I loaded it into my car that it was straight and dry and clean of nails.
This week, while adding trim to a few birdhouses in the workshop, I noticed I was getting to the end of the gentleman’s barn board, once used as a wall-covering in his son’s bedroom, and long, long before that, as cladding on a proud Ontario barn.
["Note the light blue trim from barn board": photos GH]
I’ll be sad to see the end of it once the last bit of trim makes it way back outdoors on a birdhouse, perhaps to a yard in Old South, London, or a fence post along a country road north of Lake Erie.
“Come to me old barn and I’ll build you a house,
Cozy and warm and fit for a mouse
or family of finches or sparrows dressed brown.
Come to me old barn, you may soon live in town.”
gah
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