One of the best things about moving to our most recent home are the outbuildings. They were already on the property, and their presence solved a lot of issues we’d had homesteading in the past. We’d come from five acres that supported the horses on the pasture well enough, but we had zero space for hay storage and a paltry shed for the horses to stand in. The shed was great when it was hot and dry, but the second we got more than a sneeze of rain, the footing would turn to complete mush. Horse hooves and mushy, squishy mud don’t mix.

Here, we probably have more than we actually need. Because I reconfigured the fence to give animals access to the buildings, there wasn’t a way to just let them have ALL the buildings. It’s fine though. We have a sizable shed that houses our equipment and the round bales, and a designated animal barn that works phenomenally. However, what DOES bother me about several of the outbuildings is the location.

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What’s worse than waking up to find a tree has fallen on your fenceline? Waking up to find out a tree has fallen onto one of your buildings. For whatever reason, the previous owner situated three otherwise perfectly acceptable sheds right next to the forest, almost teetering on the edge of the ravine that runs through the trees. Call me crazy, but a bunch of dead-as-a-doornail ash trees looming over a building that’s uncomfortably close to a steep hill seems like a sorta bad idea.

We had been keeping an eye on one particularly dried up and dead behemoths ash tree because of the way it hulked over the foremost shed. You know the way annoying siblings will get as close as humanly possible, without touching, just to perturb another sibling? That’s how the tree stood. The only excuse we had for not removing it sooner was A) time–because there’s never enough of it in the day and B) because if you’ve ever lived on any sort of farm or homestead, you’ll understand the slightly maddening acceptance that your to-do list will NEVER end, and C) we hadn’t figured out the safest way to get it down. Even if Jack shimmied up the tree to hack it apart, it would have fallen in heavy chunks onto the shed roof anyway. Plus, Jack would’ve probably tumbled at some point, too, and I’d rather he didn’t. So, the tree eventually toppled when Mother Nature sent a stiff gust through the area one night.

Every morning, when I wake up, I survey the backyard through the window over the sink. A tree draped across the shed was pretty conspicuous, though I never actually got around to taking a picture of it, in part because morning + kids + being in the kitchen = chaos. Also, the tree didn’t do as much damage as I thought it would. Huh. I kind of imagined it’d smash right through the building, rending it in two, but the shed held it’s own. Definitely cracked several of the beams, but it was still standing.

Thankfully, our trusty chainsaw is reliable, and we scrounged up enough children willing to help with the mess when we found a few hours here and there to do it. The biggest stumps went to the garden to shore up the compost rows, and the sticks were smashed and thrown back into the forest to do their job decomposing. And while he was at it, Jack tamed the rest of the over-reaching trees, which the cows certainly appreciated. The forest in Indiana is always encroaching, grasping for another inch, and is one reason our to-do list will never cease.

Since the damage was already done, there was little more to do than to slap a bandaid on the mess. I’m willing to do the grunt work, while Jack often has to do the figuring. Hoisting the roof beam back into position was no easy task and took several trial-and-error attempts involving 2x4s, rope, and a lot of pushing and pulling. Eventually, we got it into position, and while I hung from a knotted rope, using my bulk to keep things where the needed to be, Jack got a workout by hammering spiked joining brackets into the tenaciously hardened wood. There’s a reason people like seasoned barn wood, though it’s often part of what makes it so frustrating to work with–it’s hard as a rock.

Daisy approves.

We did not go to the gym for date night that day, but we’d definitely gotten in a decent work out with that one repair. While it isn’t necessarily a permanent fix, it’s fixed-ish enough that it should give us many more years of use before we have to figure out something else. One thing off our to-do list, infinite more to go…

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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