On Bull Testing Day, our veterinarian was late. We had an hour to kill, so I went in search of items for my Creativity Door. I headed towards the “old shop”.
The OLD *OLD* shop.
The one that used to be the blacksmith shop, and the one whose ghost whispers around the sod roofed bunkhouse.
Half of this was a hired man’s living quarters, the other half the shop. It’s kind of like our own little time machine! I *love* adventuring in here… there’s little treasures everywhere.
The original vent hood for the forge is easy to spot, other objects have gathered around the forge to comfort him in his days of forced retirement…
Boxes and rope, cans and bits, a spring here, a mystery tool there, pitchfork tines and drill presses. Wrenches for wagons, wooden barrels, milk cans, leather harness stiffened by sweat and time and Wyoming dry air.
The logs resonate with history, with the beginnings of this ranch… before power tools and battery run tools… when it all began with a dream, a man’s strong back, and a good team of horses. It is filled with horseshoes…
The rafters are lined with them. The bench scattered with them. On shelves and in drawers. Labeled with names of long dead horses for future reference that never came.
Oh, the stories this place could tell!
Most visitors might see a few labels and boxes and rusted metal from long ago… but here breathe the Ghostly Remnants of The Dream. The Dream that became this ranch in the dramatic red hills that we call Home.
Find me here!
I loved this post. One of the best ever!
This is cool.
How cool is that?! Fun!!
🙂 Those old places whisper in our hearts–thank you for a great insight.
Hi Carol, Was that the bunkhouse at Johnny’s place or the new place you and Vernon are on?
It’s the old one at Johnny’s…
love, love, love this post – thank you for sharing!!
Oh my , what a wonderful part of your life and history to have the dugout cabin. It reminds me of my life history. My 3 times Grandparents were one of a few families to start a town in southeast Kansas , Independence, Ks. he had first saw mill and one of the first grist(flour) mills. One of the families built the first log cabins from the saw mill. Before they could seal up between the logs , during one night their baby woke and crawled out between the logs. They found him out side sleeping.
Thank you for sharing your past . By the way, Your “cabin’ looks great. Your ancestors would be proud.
Getting lot of rain the last 2 days. Of course not good time, the farmers are trying to get soy beans cut, but they are glad for the rain. We have been sooo dry for 3 years. We will gladly take the rain. Sharon Drake, from south central Ks.
Beautiful.
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I love it. Don’t you wish the walls could tell you all they’ve seen? they do in the sense of what remains, but what’s not there – the people, the predicaments, the laughter…
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Boy can I relate to this one! We don’t have a cool log cabin that holds all of these things, but there is Grandpa’s old workbench in the basement (with pieces of horse harness hanging nearby), and more harness in the old oil house (along with a mostly-empty whiskey bottle in the cupboard there, and other ‘treasures’). And horseshoes everywhere. Reminders that this farm used to run strictly on horse power.
OH! What fun it must be to sit and ponder the items in there. You have your own little museum. AND – that would make for GREAT calendar pictures……
I LOVE this history of yours that you shared so beautifully. Thank you!
Great title for a book, “The Dream in the Red Hills.”I love what I just read!
I love it! What a treat to have it in your own back yard.
What a treasure trove!! 🙂