What do you do when you are up to your eyeballs in work?

Meet Suzie.  Yep, we've finally gone and done it.  It's been 16 years since we've had a dog.  We stopped moving around the country 6 years ago, and for the past two years, something just seemed to be missing.  A ranch needs a dog. It's not easy for an OCD to have a dog.  Mucky feet, accidents, dog hair, and doggie smells go against just about every fiber of a clean freak, but then again, so does all the other ickies that come with keeping up a ranch.  But up until now, I could keep the ick outside the house.

We talked the pros and cons to death.  But no matter how many times the cons won out and I came back to the world of the sane, another dog would pop up on my humane society adoption page.  Of course our search reached it's peak about the same time the whole country was snatching up every lonely animal in every shelter.  We were far down on the lists as each fur ball came up for adoption.  I decided it was Fate's way of making sure the right dog came to us.  We applied for 5 dogs over the period of a few months, but we weren't first in line.  The last dog came from a family of small children, and when the decision came between us and another family, the adoption agency chose the family that had children.  Needless to say, I as heartbroken again, and was ready to give up.  On a whim I opened up my adoption pages.

There she was.  She was older, over 8.  She was given up on. She was very broken. We locked eyes.  She was mine.  Fate pushed all those other dogs aside so that I could step in and save her.  She was more than twice her allowable weight.  She had blown out her knee and the muscle had atrophied.  She had to have major surgery and two full months of hard rehabilitation.  No families wanted to step up and work with her.  Three rescue societies and a kind vet refused to give up on her.  So we wouldn't either.

She's been here for three weeks and she's a riot.  She's a full blown beagle.  Her nose rules her brain.  She has a couple of habits we are breaking her of, like sofa sleeping or trashcan raiding, but that's trivial.  As a hunting dog, we do choose to keep her away from the livestock altogether.  Although she can watch them from the deck.  She finds the alpacas intriguing and the chickens are something to be gruffed and hummed at. 

She is glued to Doc when he gets home.

Sometimes she'll just wander around the house looking for him or sit in the laundry room, waiting for him to walk into the house.  I'm the big meanie who gives her her medicine (ear medicine is NOT a favorite), does her physical therapy, takes her on therapy walks, gives her baths, shoos her off the sofa, puts her in the kennel when it's time to run errands or do ranch chores. But Doc is the king of the beagle universe. LOL.

So welcome Suzie, I'm sure you'll be quite the added feature to the blog.

Life is More Simple in the Country

It's not more simple.  We just make it look easy.  But trust me, it's not.  We earn that hot shower at the end of the day, and trust me, that Select Comfort mattress is heaven on Earth, and sleep comes fast and hard.

It's been two solid months since I've been able to find the time to sit down and blog about the station.  The silly thing is, I can't really place my finger on WHAT I was doing, or what I accomplished over those two months, but it has been non-stop.

Being pampered by the Chicken King

The calendar was filled with the normal daily chores that are found in any household and augmented by the chores of an acreage that is racing the clock, ending one season and beginning another.  The approach of Fall was heralded by dropping of The Boy at The University. So while academically we were in Fall mode, Mother Nature was still burning the summertime oil.  It was hot, miserably humid, a lack of rain, which sent the pollen and dust counts sky high, and I was down one farm hand.

The chickens constantly reminded me that I was doing everything wrong, but as long as they had water and got their fill of tasty treats and spent the day out on long walks, I seemed to be forgiven for not being The Boy.  After all, the sun was warm and the bugs were plentiful. If you're a chicken, that's pretty much all you need to make you happy.

The chore chart on the laundry room black board seemed to grow instead of shrink.  For every chore we erased, we came up with two more that needed added. Even the tiniest chore takes time, most are mediocre, like swapping the winter and spring clothes in your closet.  Others are necessities, and require either perfect weather or more than one person to accomplish.

Painting the posts on the barn and house need warm and dry weather, but can be done by one person.  Done.

Doc playing the Pied Piper in place of the Chicken King

Replanting new trees and shrubs can be done alone, but need to be done early enough to get some rain to start a strong root system or you'll be hauling water to feed them.

Orchard Clean-up

Closing up the chicken coop for the frigid winter months, needs done after it's done being hot, but before the chill starts in.  It also requires a windless day, or 12 foot panels become wings that batter the carrier.

Posts on the barn are painted and the coop is closed up for the
Winter.

September was full of these little odd jobs and a few side trips.  Merriweather decided this would be a romantic time to go broody, so we obliged and gave her 6 eggs from a friend's farm an hour away.  She would be hatching 6 Icelandic eggs.  She's a great broody hen and spent the next 2 weeks terrifying the rest of the coop with her moody antics until I moved her to the broody coop to hatch in peace and quiet.  I think I actually heard a cheer from the main coop that day.

I treated myself to a day painting out on the last weekend of September.

It was cold and windy, and the minute pirate bugs made being outside miserable.  Not only do they bite but they landed in, and blew into the paintings, making little "snow" angels as they struggled to remove themselves from the artwork.  When I took a break for lunch and came home, I was warmed by the sight of 6 tiny, fluffy, baby vikings.  We just call them the hoard.

Baby Icelandics

The hoard outgrew the broody coop in a week and Doc and I moved them to the barn, where they spent their days playing in the dirt and tormenting their mother and the rest of the flock.  Nights in the 20s, forced us to move them into the warmer, insulated workshop were they spend their days tormenting their mother and us.  They are growing like mad, and I THINK we have three cockerels and three pullets.  It is so hard to tell at this age.

The hoard is taking over, which is I guess what hoards do best.

October is when the real work began.  Harvest in the region was about to go into full swing.  A few more weeks of dry weather and the hills would be filled with the hum of combines and grain trucks. The days were warm.  The skies were crystal blue, and the fields were a raw umber until they blazed with gold in the sunset.

The beginning of the third week of October marked the shift of the seasons.  The winds began to howl.  Days of high winds brought dry air from the south gusts repeatedly hit 45-50 mph for an entire day.  The wind was warm, but it drove dust and pollen, making being outside like being in a sandblaster.  The next day it was as if the state took a deep, calming breath to relax.  The air was warm and still, and it gave everyone a chance to repair and pick up after the windstorm.  The state exhaled the next day.  Winds greater than the previous storm spent the day blowing from the North this time.  While the major storm only lasted one day, winds in the 30s lasted the next week, and with it - cold temperatures and rain.

Snow on the Pumpkin

The pressure to finish chores was palpable. It was a race, and the last echo from the starter's pistol was fading away, and I was standing on the starting line stunned.  Just as the leaves were changing from their Summer wardrobe to their glorious Fall attire, the winds stripped them bare. Gone.  It was all gone.  Fall lasted two days, and I missed it!  It was fast and furious.  It reminds me of the kitchen scene in A Christmas Story when the Bumpass dogs tear through the house, destroy the kitchen, eat the much anticipated Christmas turkey, and break down the back door.  I felt like Ralphie, standing in the kitchen doorway, lamenting on the lack of future Turkey deliciousness.   Sigh.

Measurable snow on Halloween.

I rallied by going apple picking.  After all I still needed to make gallons of applesauce and apple butter.  During the picking, I realized it was the first time in 18 years that I had gone picking without my little apple buddy.  On the upside, the apple products turned out delicious.

Amazing meal of cream cheese and homemade apple butter
on a toasted bagel.

Wykin, Blykin, and Nod grew like weeds and started taking their place in the flock.  I decided I didn't need TWO cockerels from this generation, so I watched the boys carefully and decided who needed to find a new home.  It was a tough decision.  In the end, it was Wykin who moved 12 miles up the road to his own flock of Red Star hens.

Wykin with his new flock.  When I left, he was already dancing for his new ladies.  

Nod is now called Wookie for the loud growling noise he makes.  Blykin is now princess as she looks like Princess Leia in her flowing white pant suit.  Wookie is dancing for the flock and his stomping on the ladies is driving Andy crazy!  We are still waiting for Leia's first egg.

Wookie overseeing hay moving.

We still haven't managed to get a fence up around the pasture, so there are no large critters to report about.  All the guys that do fencing are busy with harvest, and after harvest comes deer season.  I hope to hear from someone after that!  I've done the math for the supplies I need to build the stalls in the barn, but have yet to order them.  I can always work in the barn in not so nice weather, so those chores weren't even on the winter prep chore list.  With the sun setting before 5pm, all chores are up to me during the day, and I'm only one person.

Ellie caught in the cookie jar.

Donder shocked us with this GIANT 110 gram whopper!
That's a standard size playing card.  Yes, it was a double yolk.

The children's book I'm writing is plugging along.  For a while, I was making it to a quiet library chair (with access to a Starbucks) once a week, using a day that was going to be too cold or too windy to get chores done at home.  It turns out I really cannot work on this book at home.  There are too many other things that need done, or steal my time and attention.  What started out as a picture book evolved into a short story, and has now mutated into a grade 2-4 chapter book.

So there you have it.  It's not that I didn't post for Fall 2017.  We simply didn't have one!

Two Days, Two Posts in a Row?

YOU BET!

Why?!

The sesquicentennial celebration in Nebraska has started! What is a sesquicentennial?  It's just the fancy schmancy term for 150th.  The population of the area exploded with the great westward migrations, pushed by the Homestead Act of 1862. Statehood followed in March of 1867.  It's been moving onward and upwards.

The state has an entire year of events planned. Information can be found here for those that are interested.

The one I am most interested in is the Hildegard Center Bridges project- Sharing Our Past to Enrich Our Future. The Hildegard Center prides itself in using art as a means to not only educate, but to also create dialogue and bring cultures, communities, and people together with a common interest.  As part of the 150th anniversary celebration they invited photographers to submit photos from around the state.  They were looking for images to represent not only each county, but images that would bridge the gap between the past and the present.  In addition to the image itself, a narrative describing the bridge was called to accompany the photo.  This proved quite difficult, as a picture is worth a thousand words, and we were limited to a much lower number to get our point across.

The judges started their daunting task of rating and sorting the photos, over 800 photos of historic landmarks, people, homes, barns, livestock, anything and everything that fit the topic of submission.  Going through all of the submitted photos myself on the Virtual Gallery, I am intrigued and awed by the vision and artistic eyes of my fellow Nebraskans.

Of course in the end, only one photo from each county could go on to the permanent traveling exhibit.  93 photos were printed and framed and put on display at the Great Plains Art Museum in Lincoln Nebraska beginning with the Grand Opening Reception on January 6th at 5pm.  I am quite excited!  Not only will it be an amazing exhibit, but I'm in the show!

I never dreamed my obsession with the history of wherever we live and the fact I have a camera permanently attached to my hand, would pay off.  I am thrilled to show off the digital catalogue of the show for those that are too far away to attend the actual show.  I am Butler County, which is both listed under the County Name, but is also the cover of the Catalog!

The narrative is not accompanying it online but can be found below:

"Homesteaders bravely marching westward from their familiar and relatively easy life east of the Missouri River, took a leap of faith towards a better life for themselves and their families.  While the state of Nebraska is no stranger to large Registered Historic places, it’s the smaller, more private histories that hide along the dirt back roads, along cool deep sloughs, and amongst the overgrown windbreaks that tug at my soul.

 “You can’t know where you’re going until you’ve seen where you’ve been.” Our own homestead overlooks a leg of the Ox-Bow variant of the Mormon Trail.  As local tourists to the area are drawn to the state park and speed by, I cannot help but to think back at those that came before.  I ponder the journey, not the destination.  I tune out the stereos and roaring motorcycle engines, and imagine the lowing oxen, rattling wagon wheels, and voices calling out below - only three weeks into a four month journey.  I wonder where they came from, where they are going, and what they will encounter along the way.  What became of them?

While exploring my newly adopted state, I came across this once proud, well-loved homesteader’s cabin.  Knowing the nearest historic railroad stop was half a day wagon ride, the time and effort that went into this home was evident.  Long abandoned and forgotten by the modern era, I have captured it to save it and a little piece of the family that once called it home."

The last line had to be edited out due to character number restrictions, but it read: "When the howling prairie winds fall silent, if you listen carefully you can hear the snap of the laundry on the line, the rhythmic clucking of the hens in the yard, and the happy laughter of children. I can hear them, can you?"

The photo is posted on my FineArtAmerica.com account as well, should you be interested.  Both the award winner and a cropped version, and the expanded version. Thanks for visiting them.

For those with an interest in history and/or the need for educational materials (4th graders and teachers, I'm looking at you), here is the link to the Bridges Educational materials by county. I have also emailed the Hildegard to share some more links with them to include photos of Butler County Wagon Trail ruts, a Map of the side variants to the main trails, and a digital book of first hand accounts of pioneers that was collected by the Daughters of the American Revolution. (free from the Gutenberg project-an amazing source for out of print books-by the way.) And another copy on Amazon, both free Kindle download, or pay for a print copy.

*********************
Now for the most important question, what to wear?!

ACK!

If it were up to me, I would wear my ratty sweatshirt, rolled up blue jeans, and my yellow Sloggers with the chickens on them.  However, an art gallery opening isn't quite the time and place for that outfit. Nuts.

I COULD wear my little black dress with the all over beading and matching shoes, but while it is the perfect time and place for it, I am just not that kind of person.  I would be miserable all evening, and my ankles, knees, and back would punish me all weekend for the heels.

So what on earth did I come up with?

I am going to wear a homesteading dress, patterned after one from the 1860s! It is Navy calico with small light blue flowers on it.  Although aprons and pinafores were not usually worn by women outside of the home, I will be wearing mine.  It is wedgewood blue.  As it will only be 8'F tonight, I will also be wearing all the appropriate underthings, an under dress, two petticoats (one white, one red), and red stockings with my riding boots, and a shawl.  I also have a calico bonnet, but for such a formal occasion, I needed to come up with something better.

Bonnets were for daily wear and for work, but for church and special events, if you could afford it, you wore a ladies hat.  Where to find a ladies hat from the 1860s in 2016?

For a moment I thought to switch over to my Norwegian gown and cap, a completed outfit that was washed and ready to wear.  But I wasn't in the mood for that either.  I was just going to have to MAKE a hat!

Scouring the interweb, I found many tutorials on how to make a ladies hat.  Most required a form of some kind.  Being in the middle of no where strikes again.  Inspiration part 2 struck, and I headed for my local antique mall, hoping a hat I had seen there two months ago was still there!

To my pure glee, the world's ugliest hat from the 1950s was still there.  I can only imagine that this was some woman's pride and joy in the 50s when she snuck it into the house a-la a Lucy episode, but wow.  It was a Juliet style back cap, wired around the edge to keep its shape.  This was covered in just the oddest color of velvet, not quite burgundy, not quite rust. Across the front edge was a gathered band of satin fabric is Century 21 Mustard yellow, covered in rust, brown, yellow, and red florals and swirls.  If that wasn't enough there was a giant wired bow of the same fabric at the right temple. It had to go.  It all HAD TO GO!

I am kicking myself for NOT taking photos of it when I started, but I really just wanted it apart and was just so grossed out I just started the project without thinking.  I used the old fabric as a pattern for the new black duck cotton.  I cut this oversized and put it into the embroidery machine for a couple of hours and let it work its magic.  I chose a Nordic pattern that compliments the Nordic gown.  An evening of reassembly and hand sewing followed.  It came out fantastically well.

Small remade cap on the left, formal Nordic cap and coif on right.

It is simple enough to count as a ladies cap, generic enough to go with either outfit, added the Nordic Homesteader heritage to the homesteading gown, and covered my updo hair- a married lady must.

=====

The opening was fun.  There were about a dozen of the winning 61 photographers there.  Every one was lovely and fun to talk to.  I'm not sure how many visitors came to the event, but it was at least 250. And everyone wanted to talk, talk, talk.  They enjoyed talking to all the photographers and getting to know the story behind each photo. And the photographers had a ball talking to each other as well. And we all made great connections.  A HUGE THANK YOU to the staff of Hildegard, the Judges, and The Great Plains Art Center!

The outfit was also a hit.  And it was COMFY and WARM even at 0'F outside.  I was good with the petticoats, dress, apron, and shawl!

Filley Stone Barn Harvest Festival

A few weeks ago, Doc and I decided to hop in the truck and take off for parts unexplored.  Anywhere you go here, you have to prepare to sit in the car, and sit and sit.  To make it tolerable, the journey darn well be as entertaining as the destination.  This is why we try to pick places that we haven't been, so that we can explore all new little places along the way.  Hopefully we'll find a little amazing place along the way that will demand further, in depth exploration on another trip.

On this particular Saturday, the weather promised not only to be nice, but spectacular- sunny, breezy, no humidity, and 73 degrees.  For driving and exploring, and hanging out at an outdoor festival, it doesn't get better than that!  We chose an hour and a half trip to The Filley Stone Barn. 

  It's not only an amazing structure for its time, but they were having a luncheon, flea market, antique car and tractor show, and showcasing harvest methods of the past.  It promised to be a lovely day.

I invite you to visit the above link to read up on the interesting history of the barn.

This was the lower level of the barn.  This is where the livestock would have been kept.  It currently houses broken gates, stall doors, and various old leather and iron tack.

 Vendors housed inside the barn on the main machine level for the festival included a glass marble maker and a sock knitter.  These knitters were given to women during WWI to knit socks for soldiers.  If they met their weekly quota, then they were allowed to keep the machine after the war was over.  They came with charts that instructed the user how many rows were needed for each size foot.  It was amazing to watch them crank out socks!

Note the axle jack on the right side that tips the

wagon to allow cobs to fall.

Outside there were wagons filled with dry feed corn.  The corn was then gravity fed and hand guided to a conveyer that shot it through a shelling machine.  This machine removed the dry kernels from the cob.  They fell into a hopper and the cobs flew from the machine like precision agricultural projectiles into another waiting wagon.

The whole process looked like a horrific, mangling accident waiting to happen.

A stunning team of draught horses pull a plow, tilling under the corn stalk trash.  The little girl is wearing her homesteading dress.  This is common for 4th graders here.  They spend the year learning about state history, culminating in a week of dressing up and going on experience immersion field trips.

 Also on hand were manual corn shellers, corn crackers, a couple pressing sorghum canes and boiling down the juice to sorghum syrup.  There was a booth full of classic pioneer toys.  The field had a working water windmill and a hand pump, which the children were encouraged to check out.  The adjoining field was lined with restored antique cars and tractors.

 The historical society put on a pot luck lunch inside the barn.  It is a jaw dropping, amazing place.  The floors on this level are wood planks that are 3 inches thick and the open hay loft is just amazing.

Vendors outside were a mix of flea market and local people that market big name products, which didn't hold any interest for me and honestly kind of ruined the whole ambiance of the historical location and event.  There were a few people there selling farm antiques, food, and farm products like eggs, milk, cheese, baked goods, and goat soap.  I was shocked to see that there was NO ONE there making and selling apple butter.  I guess that's MY thing.  If I didn't live so far away, I'd volunteer to do that every year!

It was a lovely day!

Boing! Spring has SPRUNG.

Living in Nebraska, on the edge of the Great Plains, I have learned the true meaning of Spring has Sprung, also why it's called SPRING.  It's because the darn season bounces back and forth between Winter and Summer faster and more often than a Tigger on a Sugar and Caffeine bender.

We have bounced from 80' days to 32' days; blazingly sunny to dim, dark, and gloomy; thunderstorms to freezing rain to snow (sometimes in the same day).  The one constant has been the incessant, relentless, howling winds.  Diaries from homesteaders tell tales of people going insane due to the endless whistling and roaring of the winds.  It is amazing how trying on your nerves the low frequency sound of wind through trees, fence lines, and over the prairie grass is.

This time of year we are also bone dry.  The ground is dry.  The vegetation, either somewhat in hibernation or dead from a long winter, is acres upon acres of kindling.  The air is dry, with Relative humidity as low as 17%.  Couple all of that with a brisk wind and you have the makings of one humdinger of a fire season.

Farmers, Ranchers, and Land Managers here (and in other large open states) use fire to control weeds, invasive plant species, and to return valuable carbon back to the grassland.  Remember, it used to burn unchecked by mother nature all the time, before we decided we didn't like our homes, and villages burned out every year.  The fires are planned, regulated, and safety precautions are strictly followed.  Of course there is always the unpredictable fire, caused by a wayward cigarette.  But for the most part, they are controlled, unless they're not.  When they do get going, they are HUGE, the plumes can be seen for miles and miles, and at night, the prairielands can glow an eerie red.  Yesterday, I counted 14 different fires along the horizon surrounding our acreage.

The FUN thing about all this wind is the ability to go fly a kite!  You can't fly a kite, REALLY fly a kite in the city, but out here, there's nothing in your way.  The past week, we had city family from out of state visiting, and I bought each of the kids a kite. ( Remember how easy it used to be to find kites and kite STRING? - HA! Try it now.)  The kids had a great time.  I even caught my mom out there playing!  Of course we had to wait for the winds to DIE DOWN to 20 mph to fly the kites.  Once the winds hit 25, 30, and 40 mph, they had to come in.  I didn't want them to end up in South Dakota!

Another fun event this time of year with all of the dry weather is Virga.  Virga is precipitation that forms in a moist layer of the atmosphere.  When it builds up to a weight sufficient for it to fall to the earth, it gleefully begins its journey towards earth.  Normally it would make it, and we would call it rain, or snow, or freezing rain.  However, when the precipitation falls towards earth and hits a layer of dryer air, it evaporates.  This can happen hundreds of feet above the surface or I've seen it a mere 10 feet off the ground. 

I am always amazed by it and really enough watching the shape shifting ballet of moisture.  This week, we had the extra bonus of having brilliant sunshine at just the right angle to a Virga shower, which resulted in a VIRGABOW.

Acreage Update

With Spring comes the endless chores, which I welcome.  Those that know me, know I cannot sit still.  And when I do, I do not do it well. 

Even with the challenge of the winds, the garden has been cleaned out.  Now I need to figure out which crops go where and set the frames back down.  April 20th I will plant the onion sets, and the potatoes.

We also decided to expand the orchard.  We added 11 more trees and 100 feet in length.  We added redbud trees on the very end between the orchard and road.  They will not only provide western shade (someday) in summer to the fruit trees, but will act as a visual screen to the view beyond.  As for the fruit trees, we added, granny smith, montmorecy cherries, candy crisp apples, cameo apples, cherry plums, rainier cherries, and  stayman winesap apples.  Someday, we might get apples to eat!

The dragons are back.  Well Killdeer birds really.  But we call them rock birds and they lay fabulously camouflaged eggs in our rock beds every year.  The eggs look like they belong to a dragon.  The adult birds have a piercing cry, a great scheme to get you away from their eggs, and the ability to completely disappear in the landscape.  I think they're from another dimension or planet, but that's neither here nor there.

Broody Daisy Update

Today is day 21, hatching day!  Well the AVERAGE hatching day.  We do have action, tomorrow should greet us with at least one puff butt.  This is Meriweather's one contribution to the nest.  The other blue eggs are cream legbars. There is one olive egg, and four black Maran eggs.



We have also decided that we will not let Daisy be broody again.  It's not that she isn't doing a GREAT job sitting.  She is.  The problem is, that's ALL she does.  She doesn't have the brains to get up even ONCE a day to eat, drink and relieve herself.  She will go about her business IF we pull her out, but ONLY if we pull her out.  So no second family for her.

Other Chicken News

Meet Noodle and Nugget.  They are both Ameraucana chicks and are being raised for the Lincoln Children's Zoo.  After they live here quarantined from all other animals, and fully feather out, they will be delivered to the zoo to be raised and trained by the Zoo Crew Kids.  They will then be used to educate visitors and school children about chickens.  They follow in the footsteps of their big sister Lucy, a black Maran, that we raised and donated last year.

Just look at those giant poofy cheeks!

Giant poofy cheeks turn into great big bushy beards!

Until next time!

Doc Here...
Caryl described all that as though these were distinct events at Dunrovin.  No, the chickens decided to help with the orchard expansion.( Caryl ~ known as the construction and approval crew.)  Step 1 is breaking the sod and removing it from where the tree goes.  Then we dig the hole in the clay soil for the tree.  Once we got past step 1, the girls helped.  They helped themselves to the yummy earthworms racing for cover.  For all the scratching they did, they only dug down about an eighth of an inch.  The remaining 11 7/8" was up to us. (Caryl-like all good supervisors, they taught and stepped back and watched us do the remaining work, got bored, and wandered off to have a chat around the water cooler.)



 

Thursday update

One hatch- Dorcas- mom is Merriweather,  dad is zap. She will be an olive egger. 5 more eggs are pipped that we can see.

As long as I was in a painting mood... The DunRovin Station Star

The great barn square project, yup, I just HAD to do it!

Being a former quilter, and living just up the road from the National Quilt Museum, and having a blank canvas of a barn, it was kind of a no brainer to join in the party.  The Barn Quilt Project and Trail have been around for a while.  My barn however, is new to me.   With a stunningly bright teal chicken house set against the dull, dusty sienna grassland, I thought the tan barn could use a boost.  Thus another project was born.

A barn square is a 4x4 foot square of plywood.  The pattern can be a traditional one, or an original one.  It can be chosen at random for the simple love of the pattern, or can have a family link or history, or can be picked for a significance to the name.

I looked, and search, pondered, and studied.  I couldn't find anything that suited the style I wanted, which is transitional with a modern flair.  Nor for the area, which is land and beach.  Or the color combinations I wanted to use.  I knew I wanted to use the bold teal on the coop and a neon yellow.

When all was said and done, I decided to come up with an original square.  I started with the traditional mariner's compass.  I decided to make it dimensional.  I also wanted a wedding ring, but then decided to intertwine it in the star.  Then I decided to balance the front star with a peak a boo star behind.

A 4x4 foot square of 1/2 inch plywood. Smooth and sanded.
I sealed it on both sides with left over light coloured exterior storm
coat paint.  Light colors layered above will come out cleaner looking
if painted on a lighter base.

The pattern was measured off and drawn with a watercolor pencil.
I then used FROG painters tape to mask off areas so I would get clean lines.

I only needed small amounts of the secondary colors, so I opted to
purchase small sample colors from the hardware store.  They only run
$2-$3 per container and are perfect for smaller projects.  In this case, bright
yellow and a classic gold.

I moved on to the background teal which matches the henhouse.  Valspar's
True Teal. Then taped off the next section of points.

Just look at the dimension starting to pop right off the board!

Each layer of yellow/gold took 4 coats to really make the color sing. The background
Needed two coats.

The ring is Cut Ruby.  It took three coats to be solid and bright
enough.  I just freehanded it.  I created the arc with a pushpin, some string
and a pencil.

Getting there.



I taped off the background star and painted them with two coats
of white primer sealer.

I taped off one side of the background star so I could paint it
Homecoming Blue.

UPDATE - I called several local contractors as this project was going to need a small cherry picker to mount on the barn.  The grade behind the barn is not favorable to using a ladder and the extension ladder was 2 feet too short.  The size of the square and the wind we normally have would just make it lethal for US to try to put it up.  This is one of those situations where it is well worth it to hire someone to DO it for you. 

All of the contractors were not only disinterested, but booked out for months.  Brain storm !  A TREE TRIMMER!  This isn't their busiest time of year, and with the holidays, who couldn't use some extra cash?!  I called the closest tree trimmer to the house, 30 miles, and described what I wanted done.  He'd seen some barn squares, but didn't know about them.  After I assured him that he could drive his truck right up next to the barn and screw in the board, he gladly said yes!  We had to wait ten days for the weather to cooperate, but he came today and it's UP!  I had it all predrilled.  I put 1 inch thick silicone grommets on the back to hold it away from the siding, which he thought was BRILLIANT!  There is a screw at each corner, and one on each side.  It's NOT going anywhere.

In the bright sunshine (NW) roadside of the barn, it shines like a diamond.  It is the same teal as the coop, which also shines in the dusty grey winter, and the bright winter snow!  We've already had people slowing down on the road to look.  YAY!