One of my favorite things about moving to a new place is uncovering bits and pieces left behind by previous owners. Inside the barn, there are multiple signs with the family names of the farm’s owners before us. It’s pretty awesome to imagine the stories of how this place came to be and the people that once loved it like we do now.
Aaron also uncovered a disk, tiller and many other rusted implements for the tractor buried in the overgrown brush. We’ve taken inventory of tons of garden cages and baskets. The root cellar is loaded with canning jars. The barns are packed with little collections of lumber. These treasures (and their history) are truly magic.
Imagine the insane excitement when we discovered a 1990s style concrete patio table acting as the slab that kept the tractor implements out of the mud. Given how we uncovered its existence, I am dying to know how it came to be on the farm. Lo, I can only tell you its future.
Months ago, we noticed 4 concrete “legs” for benches. A full concrete bench sits under the flagpole in the front yard. Without any other benchtops, I half assumed that the extra legs were part of a failed Pinterest project or simply acquired as part of a “good deal.”
The owners before us really didn’t seem like packrat types though. Everything around the farm has been super clean, organized and clutter-free. So these random and seemingly useless bench feet in the barn really didn’t make sense.
When Aaron and Chris hooked up the plow about a week ago, I started eyeballing a concrete column behind the pole barn. It was also weird and out of place. A few minutes later, I finally spotted the round tabletop sinking into the ground nearby. Then, a couple of implements down, one of the bench seats rested below another attachment.
That accounted for the table and two benches: the table column and topper, plus a fully assembled bench under the flag pole and, now, this seat for a set of feet from the barn. Excitement had more than set in, but I still had a spare set of feet. I was on a mission.
I went on with our work for a couple of days – we’ve been beyond busy with the greenhouse renovation and chicken coop build. I still couldn’t shake the idea of that third bench and wondered just where I would put it if I need to get it out of the way. Nothing was making sense. When Aaron finally decided we were going to unearth the tabletop, he announced a surprise.
“There are two bench seats here!”
The benches behind the barn had been stacked. The lower one had sunken into the mud – leaving only a small bit showing.
Just like that, we had a full concrete table and three benches.
I remember tables and benches like this from my childhood. For the life of me, I can’t recall who I knew that had one, but the pattern and shape are incredibly familiar to me. With that in mind, I’m deciding this set is a 90s era design gem.
This beauty gets extreme bonus points for being salvaged from the outdoors where it’s survived some legit wear. Since it’s not new, it has some great earthy style and mossy age to it. Assembled in the shade near the garden, it will provide a perfect escape from our work in the sun. I absolutely cannot wait to see our family and friends gathering around later this Spring.
With a little online investigation, I discovered that the full collection sells for about $1,500 on eBay (plus some wicked shipping, I imagine). Of course, the Cement Barn also sells it for $550 (again, with wicked shipping, I’m sure). So, you know – the value is somewhere in there.
This discovery really isn’t about the price tag though. As the chicken coop awaits a bit of paint and the greenhouse renovation sneaks ever closer to the finish, it’s beginning to feel as though we’re making our mark on the farm. “We’re here! We’re taking care of you! We love you!”
If the spirit of the farm feels our joy and ambition at all, I have to believe this is the coolest welcome home gift we could ever receive. “You’re here! Gather your people! Make memories! I love you too!” We have so much story to create and tell here – and, slowly but surely, it feels like this is where we were always meant to land.