Abandoned Around Here – A Photo Blog

When looking for photos to post to the historical society Twitter account I manage, I realized that I have quite a trove of photos from abandoned homesteads and building sites in the area. Here are some of the best close-to-home shots from over recent years. These were all taken at the same abandoned farmstead. Wherever you are, take time to enjoy the view. – Lori

The view through the farmhouse window
The cupboard is bare.

“It was a mistake to think of houses, old houses, as being empty. They were filled with memories, with the faded echoes of voices. Drops of tears, drops of blood, the ring of laughter, the edge of tempers that had ebbed and flowed between the walls, into the walls, over the years.

Wasn’t it, after all, a kind of life?

And there were houses, he knew it, that breathed. They carried in their wood and stone, their brick and mortar a kind of ego that was nearly, very nearly, human.”

― Nora Roberts, Key of Knowledge

The same barn from a distance.

“Give me an old house full of memories and I will give you hundred novels!”

― Mehmet Murat Ildan

Historic Preservation Quote | Renovation Quotes

“The reality is that old houses that were built a hundred years ago were built by actual craftsmen, people who were the best in the world at what they did. The little nuances in the woodwork, the framing of the doors, the built-in nooks, the windows—all had been done by smart, talented people, and I quickly found that uncovering those details and all of that character made the house more inviting and more attractive and more alive.”

― Joanna Gaines, The Magnolia Story

Treacherous Skate, Frosty Walk

Yesterday morning I dug out my old skates and walked down to the outdoor rink that the local fire department created in December. It’s situated by the local arena which lately, due to Covid-19 restrictions, has been closed. People skate on this oval all the time, but this was my first visit to the newest attraction in the village.

When I arrived at the ice rink, one of the volunteer firefighters was just finishing adding some water to the ice surface to remove the thick frost left there by the rain we’d received a day or two before. He’d made a wide, wet ring around the outside edge of the oval, but the centre was still thick with a combination of frozen rain and sleet. The firefighter had run out of water to apply to the ice so he drove off on his quad, hauling a little trailer behind, and I laced up my skates.

Prior to this attempt, I hadn’t skated for about seven years. As I stepped onto the ice, I made a realization: wet ice is extremely slippery. I took a few tentative steps and began staggering around like a newborn giraffe, my arms flailing in tight circles as I tried to gain some balance. Then, as I rounded the oval I discovered what I couldn’t detect from just looking at the ice rink. It has a definite downhill slope and suddenly, I was on that decline and picking up speed fast on the wet surface. With my knees locked in terror and my arms spread for balance, I made a frantic plan to leap into the snowbank I was headed for. But, even as I planned my desperate escape, my skate blades obeyed my feet and followed the curve of the wet ice oval. Here, the ice was level and I slowed to nearly a stop.

Heart pounding, I stepped off the wet outer oval and onto the frosty centre where I staggered about until the firefighter returned on his quad with a full canister of water on his trailer. By the time he returned, I was regaining a small slice of my lost skating ability. Still, I was happy to head to the bench, swap my skates for boots, and let him finish resurfacing the ice.

After my short, sweaty skate (sweaty from fear and the exertion it took to keep upright), I dropped my skates off at home and went for a walk. The sun was bright and the trees were adorned with frost. There were large ice crystals embedded in the frost and floating through the air, glinting as the morning sun kissed them.

The ice crystals are quite visible on this glittering tree.
The road I walk north of the village.

Thanks for dropping by to spend some time with me today. Take care. ~ Lori

Procrastination Photos From Dave’s Farm

Two cats, too cute.

It’s been a while since I’ve had the opportunity to visit Dave’s farm and to care for his horse, Peso, and his nameless cats. That changed today, and as I walked across the land and around the farmyard, I took some pictures because taking photos for me is less daunting than working on my novel.

I hope you enjoy my procrastination photos. Have a really nice weekend. ~ Lori

Fun with filters. I took this one using the “Creative” setting on my camera.
One clear kitten. Dave’s cats are wild but curious.
More fun with filters.
Wild Roses
Dave’s Fence
Again with the “Creative” setting on my camera.
Rosebuds
More yellow flowers. (Again, not a botanist.)
Dave’s garden is doing so much better than my garden, but it’s not a competition. And yet I wish my garden was doing better than Dave’s garden. Or at least as well.
Peso says, “So long and thanks for dropping by!”