Tuesday, December 13, 2016

The Barn in The Attic

Pulled down the folding stair and laboriously climbed into the attic.  It has been a long spell since I roamed through this silent dusty old place.  I turned the corner and started walking down a narrow lane, clearly disused for some time, for the tracks were overgrown with weeds which had withered and died, drooped over and formed a carpet on which to tread.

Presently on my left I spied an old barn, wind-beaten and grey, and listing to the east.  Prevailing winds, you know.  Curiosity poked me in the side and I went through the open gate to the barn lot.  The door hung on a rail and would have been easily opened but that was not necessary for it stood open anyway so I walked inside.

Shafts of sunlight shot through the cracks that separated the siding in random places.  I stumbled through all sorts of clutter, disused machinery, even an old kitchen sink, and galvanized tubs, a 1940s vintage washing machine, its wringer dismounted and jammed into the tub.

Then what is that on this old bureau?  In stunned amazement I recognize this piece of long disused machinery as my old Idea Mill.  I have not seen it in ages and I have no idea how it got here.  I must have placed it in the refuse bin for disposal and somebody salvaged it, dragged it to this haven for old stuff.  Whoop! Perhaps I can now gin this thing up and work up an idea for a blog post.    I reached for the handle and discovered the first problem.  The handle was not mounted on its axle but rather it was sticking up from inside the hopper.

I took the crank and placed it back on its shaft.  I did not have a pin to hold it in place, but it fit snugly and would perhaps allow a few turns without falling off.  I tried to turn the handle.  Frozen.  Looking into the hopper I could see that the raw material for new ideas had been left in the hopper and it was all clotted, gummed up and hardened into an ugly mass.  I looked around for a tool with which to dislodge the stuff.  There is a tire iron.  Surely that will break it loose!  Not so.  All my efforts were futile.
 
I wandered, defeated, out of that place and shambled away.  Another hope dashed.


Word of the day:  shambled  Old Weathered Barn Scott County, Indiana

10 comments:

Secondary Roads said...

What is sadder than an idea mill that has deteriorated from lack of use? I'm afraid my mill is suffering a similar malady. I hope that doesn't mean we both end up in shambles.

vanilla said...

Chuck, in my youth I often heard "Use it or lose it." Now I wonder if in fact I have used it up. Who knew?

Grace said...

Oh you HAVE NOT used it up. But I do think the world has gotten overwhelming...And this was lovely.

vanilla said...

Grace, why thank you. Just when I thought I had lost it, someone was entertained.
And yes, overwhelming is what the world is right now.

Secondary Roads said...

There is a big difference between losing it and using it up. If you've used it up, you still have the container--I know you do. Just go and fill it up again. A trip (even if only in the mind) to the upper part of an old barn may be enough. Memory Lane is just around the corner from where you are. Your trips there have been productive for you and entertaining for the rest of us.

vanilla said...

Chuck, you are an encourager. Perhaps the thing to do is relax and go with the flow. Today the thing to do is stay indoors! Brrr.

Vee said...

So that's where ideas are made. As with other things, some of us did not get one of those.

vanilla said...

Vee, "some of us" perhaps, but you not included. Novel, e.g.: q.e.d.

Sharkbytes (TM) said...

This is beautiful and powerful writing. Any thoughts of every publishing some of your stuff?

vanilla said...

Sharkey, I thank you so much. I have thought of publication but essentially I like to write but lack the discipline to jump through the hoops. I write from the heart, edit with my head (perhaps several times in some cases) but that is the end of it. No desire to have someone else tell me how to put my thoughts together.