History in the Making

A few weeks ago, we had some pretty major demolition done in preparation for the building of our new little house on the farm. If you haven’t seen it yet, here’s the link: http://the-dairy-maid.com/2011/05/23/the-little-house/ We’re about a month out from starting the build, but we had to go ahead and get the site cleared and ready. We killed two birds with one stone since the farmer had a few, massive dead trees that he wanted pushed out.

This is the childhood home of the farmer. Obviously, no one has lived in it for years and everything has grown up, but this is where all the farmer’s boyhood memories were made.

This is also the home in which the farmer’s father was raised. Eventually, my father-in-law bought the farm from his parents so they could buy a house in town. It’s here that he and my mother-in-law started a family and made all the wonderful memories that come from raising kids and making a life together. Bless my mother-in-law’s heart, she couldn’t watch as the old house came down. We couldn’t blame her.

I had never really seen a bulldozer at work. I was awestruck. The pure power and strength that this piece of machinery possessed was amazing to me. If ever there were a sexy peice of machinery, a bulldozer would totally be it! One little push and those old, dead trees fell to the ground. The house was a little different, which goes to show how well-built it was. It came apart in sections, just the way it had been built onto.

Peanut had to be right in the middle of everything, too. She doesn’t like to miss out.

This was taken while he was pushing out the trees. She was loving it!

This was taken right after the last push that brought it all down. I asked the farmer how he felt about it all. “I’m fine because all the memories will always be right up here,” he said as he tapped his temple. “The old house needed to come down. It was in bad shape.”

We left the old smokehouse back there for the farmer’s brother-in-law who wants to take it apart and put it back together on his land. Otherwise, the site is cleaned up and ready to go.

My feelings were bittersweet during the demolition. A part of me felt really bad for tearing down something that signified memories. A life built. A building that served in the making of the 2nd and 3rd generation of this farm.The home where a man and his wife raised their 5 children. Then again, I was also excited. Excited that a new home would be built here. A cycle will continue. A Krider is still running this place and the fourth generation will be raised here and prepared to take it over if they so decide. I’m imperative in this because those little Kriders will be mine, the ones that I help bring into the world. To me, this house signifies a fresh start for the farmer and I and a new beginning for whatever’s to come with this land and the ones next in line to have it.

The old house was a part of the past, a lot of history there. That history made my husband the man he is today. One I can’t help but think the older generations would be proud of.  The new house is history in the making, the continuing line of this family farm. And if that’s not exciting, I don’t know what is.

Oddly emotional,

The Dairymaid

Copyright. Breauna Krider. 10/31/11