Grandpa's barn has seen better days.

His sons built the barn about 25 years ago. He wanted a high arched, gothic look barn. It was his dream. So, with hard work from his kids and others, grandpa got his dream barn.

It used to hold some livestock, hay, grain, and all the tools of the farm trade. For some time he had a small herd of beef cattle. Most were good old hereford, but some were mixed with black angus, he was pretty proud of his cows.

They would graze the pasture by the barn and then wander south through the woods, over the hill, to our pasture. The leader of the pack was a bossy black bull that I didn't want to cross paths with, but grandpa always knew how to keep him in line. Sometimes he had a few pigs and chickens, but Grandpa Carl was a beef cow kind of guy. A mechanic and heavy equipment operator by trade. That was work, the cows were pleasure. He loved farming. He loved his farm. He loved the barn.

my last goodbye to grandpa: old pair of his boots filled with fresh greens were "tough boots to fill"

Then, one day, the real job ended. Retirement! It meant there was more time for chores around the barn. There was fence to mend, manure to move, and animals to feed and water. Truly a labor of love.

As the years crept up, the barn was home to fewer and fewer animals. Grandpa was slowing down. It was decided it was better for him to quit "working" so hard.

Eventually, it was no longer a barn, it was a storage building.

I miss seeing the tractor puttin' through the big barn doors. I miss hearing the kids running around the hay loft. I miss the dogs rushing up the stairs of the granary in hunt of chipmunks.

I miss the man who walked outside every day, twice a day, to feed and water his cows. In the summer the path from the house to the barn was downtrodden grass. Come winter, it was packed snow. His foot prints were easy to spot. Grandpa's feet were turned outward at ten to two, as on a clock.