Opinion : From agriculture to nature: A diary of an old farm

When VT Editor Dean was very young, this area held a corn crib; now it's a place to see nature.

I remember it as the place where my grandfather had a corn crib when I was very young.

Then one day, when we went to see my grandparents, it was gone.

I had mostly ignored that area for the past few years, as I worked on other areas of the farm. But last fall I decided to see what I could do to improve it.

The 8 X 30-foot concrete slab, was still standing, although it was hidden by weeds and trees and covered with a thick layer of dirt and leaves. Around it were scattered hundreds of pieces of metal, partly from a shed destroyed by a tornado the summer I was born, and partly from years of using the area as a junkyard. I found car parts, tractor parts, and many parts I cannot identify.

I cleaned it out last fall, and spent the winter deciding what to try to do with the area.

Without having any specific plans, I began.

Yeah, I know, I know: That's not how you build a building. Whatever.

I bought some treated 2 by 4s, and used the plywood left over from previous projects. I bought some plywood siding, then went to the Habitat For Humanity Restore place in Cedar Rapids for large window screens, nails and other items. I bought some shingles from a man on Craigslist, and a sunroof at a building supply clearance aisle.

I first tried to use concrete screws, but the concrete was too old and brittle for that to work. So, I dug holes for 4 x 4 posts.

I smashed a thumbnail. Then later, when I was nearly done, a fingernail. Like I tell my kids, "Don't do that; it hurts." I found some cedar pickets to make a fence; and some used lumber to make steps.

The project is mostly done, but quite imperfect; if it looks good to you in the photo, it's largely because of my experience as a photographer and not as a builder of anything to look at (although I am proud of some of the improvements I made to the house where my grandfather lived most of his life). My goal is to have an area to enjoy nature, and make a small trail that winds through our property. Once, there were pigs in the pasture (my dad was one farm hand who could actually call hogs). Later, there were cows. I watched Grandma Hazel make butter from milk that my grandpa brought up from the pasture. But now, because of many factors, the "farm" area will become more of a nature area. I am not sure Grandpa would be so happy with that.

I still have people tell me they remember my grandfather, who died in a car accident in October of 2002, just a few days before his 89th birthday. When they ask me what I think he would say about all I have done with his old place, I laugh.

I know he would have cussed at some of the changes, like removing the old rusty wood stove, the kind that gives insurance agents nightmares. He probably also would have said, "It's been like that for 65 (expletive deleted) years. It's good enough. Leave it be!"

Then he'd drive to the Senior Center in Vinton or to his gathering of card playing buddies (which included my former Little League coach and former Urbana Mayor Keith Schmitz) and brag about how good his house looks.

Then he'd come home and work in the garden. Sorry, Grandpa; that's one of the many things I could never do as well as you.