15/11/2023
At The Barn
Horse people and their families are more than familiar with the phrase "at the barn."
This morning as I drove laps on the tractor, working the arena in the still air at the barn, I got to thinking about how much of my life I have spent "at the barn" and what that phrase insinuates for horse "lifers" like us.
"At the barn" means I can run a tractor and a shovel and a pitchfork. I am familiar with PVC and pipe glue and a sundry tools. It means I can wrestle a hay bale, manage a wheelbarrow full of p**p, and drive a water truck.
"At the barn" says I work in the heat without melting, bundle up against the cold without complaint, and invest hours upon hours in the management of an entire world outside of my house.
I take on great responsibility "at the barn" because there are animals there that depend on me and my work ethic and dedication to their well being, health and fitness.
Because I spend so much time "at the barn", I must be tougher than most and more grounded than some because I work in the elements day in and day out taking care of the animals that feed my soul.
I know that regardless of how hard real life can be, there is always refuge "at the barn" where there are the soft sounds of crunching hay, the smell of shavings, the breath of horses, and responsibilities that create sense of peace, stability, and simplicity.
"At the barn" means that my house isn't always clean and that dinner is sometimes comprised of grilled cheese or cereal.
"At the barn" means I might gone 10 minutes or several hours depending on what chores call out to me or how much quiet time I need to myself.
Often times it is dark "at the barn" because the responsibilities that demand my attention happen before the sun comes up or long after it has fallen below the horizon, but that's ok because we wouldn't have it any other way.
The world "at the barn" doesn't stop because I am tired or sick or would rather be on vacation or because the calendar says it is a holiday.
"At the barn" is a priority that cannot be overlooked because living breathing animals await our arrival and attention.
Some days we cuss "at the barn" because we would like to be at the house or at the lake or even just in front of the TV, but despite those days, we know that we could never live without "at the barn."
Those of us who have spent our lives "at the barn" know that the barn and everything that happens there is an irrevocable part of who we are; it is a special kind of DNA that cannot be denied or altered. Undaunted by heat or cold or damp or dirt or fatigue, we know that the one thing that could actually do us in would be the inability to be "at the barn”