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The Editorial Page   A place for Editorial comment and Letters to the Editor   By Sandy Neilly Being involved in the antiques industry, I'm inclined to often think about how things have changed for us, especially over the past century.   Living in an old house on a rural property, with an even older barn, it's easy to envision what farm life was like when the Coveney family built this double brick two-and- half-story farmhouse for $850 in 1913.   It was a 600 acre farm back then and operated as such for about 60 years. We still have a few things that are original to the property; an old pump, some hay forks and several falling-down outbuildings, filled with much more than just the cedar rails that were neatly stacked when we moved in 16 years ago.   The 600 acres have been reduced to just under eight - more than two non-farmers like ourselves really need, but large enough to feel like we have a piece of heaven (most days) and to appreciate how much work land ownership on a larger scale is, and always has been.   Our 104-year-old barn is a thing of great beauty if you ignore some of the non-antique items in it that we've accumulated over the years. The huge hand-hewn beams conjure up images of teams of men and beasts of burden struggling to set them in place to be framed with boards of wood cut from trees much wider than anything we see today.   (It makes us understand why those one or two-board top harvest tables are so coveted and fetch such a good price.)   What a chore it must have been to climb up the ladder to the top of the barn to hook hay bales onto the iron forks that ran along on pulleys above. The forks are still way up there, up under the metal roof that sounds like an air raid when heavy rain comes - and there they will stay, I hope, for many more years.   Atop the barn, we still have lightning rods with the glass balls, some of which are perched a bit precariously, waiting to take that big hit. They're just the ordinary glass balls, nothing fancy on this farm - and it's good that they're still there. We've had some incredibly violent storms that seem to enjoy carrying on right above our property and I like to think the lightning rods scare off those ear-splitting electric daggers that strike when least expected.   (A neighbour just south of us lost two televisions on separate occasions, so I know I'm not imagining how close the lightning is.)   When and if the time ever comes that those rods have to be replaced, I doubt it will be Peter or myself doing it. The enormous rocks in the foundation of the barn were quite likely taken from the fields surrounding it and hauled in by yoked oxen. How men lifted them without heavy machinery to stack them as a wall is totally beyond me. Their texture and spectrum of colours is intriguing and it's a wonderful thing to run your hand over something so ageless and solid.   With the barn built snugly into the side of a hill, the "downstairs" of the barn is partly underground and it can be a cool oasis on the hottest days of summer; something that I'm sure was planned when the barn was being built.   Those folks who built the barn must have had a lot of digging to do when setting in the foundation for the building. The work involved in that not-so-distant past is mind boggling. It makes me feel rather inept and I often wonder what the original generation of Coveneys who built it would think of it today. They would probably be sad to see an unproductive bit of property surrounding the old house and barn, reduced from its once grand 600 acre size, but I think they would also be pleased to see how well their gracious old barn has stood up over the last century with very little help from the residents of the day.   When I lived in Markham as a child, I often played at a local farm and it was one of my favourite places to be. That farm is long gone - the entire area is a sprawling sea of homes and businesses now. That makes me appreciate even more where we live today, with some local history intact and ready to be shared by anyone who appreciates the good old days ... days of hard work, simple pleasures and a real respect for one's surroundings.   While you're travelling this summer, checking out the wonderful shops, shows and auctions that you'll find in the pages of this issue, take a look at some of the old barns that you pass.   You'll be studying a glimpse of history while you conjure up the images of what it might have looked like 100 years before ... chances are there would have been a lot of activity then; a buggy parked by the big old barn door, with a horse all harnessed up to go to market with the fresh eggs and crates with chickens to sell.   The sounds you would hear wouldn't be of cars and trucks going by on the highway, but more likely cows mooing, donkeys braying and horses neighing. The dinner bell might have been ringing to call the family in for a meal made entirely from food grown, harvested and prepared right on that very acreage.   It's a comforting time to envision, although if most of us were called upon to actually live that life, I suspect we wouldn't make it through a day without collapsing from the work we'd have to do.   Remember to appreciate the past, wherever you live. There is so much to learn from it. Thanks for reading.     Return to top of page   This Is Livin' Publishing © 2010 581 8th Line West, RR1 Hastings, ON, K0L 1Y0 Phone/Fax: 705-696-1833   webmaster