Once a year we have our barn whitewashed. It gives the interior a nice face-lift.
Brightening and freshening up the place makes working satisfying. I am more content in an organized, clean working environment, be it in the barn or in the house.
Just before the whitewashers were scheduled to come, we started preparing. Taking everything out of the barn that we possibly could, the outside of our barn looked like we were having an auction. Brooms, shovels, barn carts, milk house cart, garbage pails, trainers, buckets and tools were neatly assembled so that when the work was finished, all these things could be wiped off and carted back inside.
The whitewashers cover stanchions, milk pipes, and windows — everything that should not be coated with a fine spray mix of water and lime. They even clean the long fluorescent light fixtures, which is a time-consuming job. It takes them a couple of hours to get everything done. Then they clean up and cart away all of their materials before they leave.
As they were doing their job, my husband and I were in the woods (again) making wood. When we hauled a truckload home we noticed the whitewashers had left. Eating a hasty lunch we then headed out to the barn to put it all back together. The mangers and the all the stalls had to be swept down, and finally, we carted everything back in.
Our work led us right up into chore time. I fed grain while my husband filled the feed wagon and finally we could let cows in. When the barn is whitewashed, the cows think they’re coming into new accommodations. Nothing smells the same, nothing looks the same, and they are flummoxed.
When a cow is disoriented as she’s coming into the barn, it causes a log jam. She stops, bug-eyed. The one behind her stops, they back up, one goes in another one’s stall. It is crazy how they can get so completely baffled. I just want to yell at them, “IT’S THE SAME PLACE!”
One cow got herself stuck in an opening not meant for a cow. It wasn’t even on her side of the barn. She was so tight it was like trying to get sardines out of a tin can. She’d push front ways and then try to reverse herself. Finally she managed to shift her massive body out, almost cracking a wooden gate she had jimmied herself up against. Sheer maddening frustration.
Another place we got a face-lift just recently is inside the house. The last time we painted, we did it ourselves with the help of a few friends and relatives. This time the ceiling needed it as well and I just could not muster the enthusiasm to paint it ourselves, so we hired the job out to Tom Stefl, from Shawano. He does very good work!
The mess in the house getting ready for Tom almost did me in. Mom always told me, “It’s got to be bad to be good, Kay!” Many times Mom had a plan in the works, or one in her head, to remodel a spot here or there during our growing-up years, so she knew what she was talking about.
Preparing everything in the house was done in the same manner as the barn. Hauling as much stuff out of the living room, dining room and kitchen as I could, I stored everything in our back recreation room, on top of the ping-pong table. Removing all the receptacle covers, I washed and stored them along with their little screws, in a box. I wanted to make everything as easily as possible for Tom, so he could just come in and do his thing.
My sister-in-law is very adept at sewing so I asked her if she’d sew new coverings for the living room valances for me, as I was getting a new color scheme. She agreed, saying I should pick up what appealed to me in a cotton blend and she would do the rest.
Bringing my paint samples to the store with me, I uneasily made my way over to the bolts of cloth. Let’s just say, sewing is not my strong point. I found some cloth that I thought would look great; my three paint samples were represented very well.
I started to get excited. Then the gal told me she only had 3½ yards, I needed four.
Hauling out my cellphone, I took a picture of the cloth and texted my sister-in-law, “I luv this but they only hav 3½ yrds!”
She texted back, “I’m at Wal-mart, where are u?” Incredulous! We were at the same store at the same time.
I asked the clerk, “Where am I?”
She looked at me like I was a bit soft in the head and said very slowly, “You. Are. In. The. Fabric. Department.”
“Oh, goodness gracious, I’m so sorry. Craft stores give me the hives and this is dang close!”
When I saw my sister-in-law we hugged, dissolving into giggles. She approved the fabric, took it home and managed to use 3½ yards to sew not only valances, but also side table coverings and two throw pillows, complementing my face-lift to a T. It looks like new accommodations, but unlike our cows, I am loving mine right from the start!
Whitewashers, painters and seamstresses each do their own thing by sprucing up the barn or the house. And, yes, it does have to be bad to be good. But when it’s all said and done, it is very good. Very good indeed.
(“Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.” 1Peter 4:10)
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