The Magic of Renovating a 100-Year-Old Barn

What is it about an old barn that is so enticing? Is it the beauty of its unrefined, naturally battered old walls and rusting roof? Is it the way it takes our mind back in time to a more primitive, simple era when life was more provincial?

There is something magical about an old barn, whether it is a working barn (storing hay, farm equipment or housing animals), an abandoned barn or one like my own, a barn reincarnated as a home.

While walking the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in Spain a few years ago, I had an epiphany. If I renovated one of the two barns on my property, I could rent out the larger farmhouse and live in the renovated barn! This would be far more practical and would much better suit my character and current lifestyle. With the magic touch of my local contractor, Steve Dandeneau, he and I designed and renovated my barn while doing our best to preserve its integrity and history.

Jen’s favorite room, the bathroom, with everything
made from a huge variety of barn
materials!

I now live in this lovely, small reincarnated barn and I truly believe what the little sign hanging on my wall says – “If these walls could talk, what tales they could tell.” How true that is! Steve and I designed this special place to not only keep the outside structure looking true to its heritage, but the inside as well. As I sit here in my living room (where a tractor formerly lived), I look at the same 100-year-old wood that created the original barn… the same knot holes, nails protruding from wood, hand hewn beams, notches, wooden pegs holding the frame together, etc. While adding modern touches where necessary, making living here as comfortable as living in any modern home, we found excitement in re-using, re-purposing as much of the old barn (its structure, its contents and even its old buried treasures) as we could.

During the barn renovation, it was obvious to me that the passion for this project wasn’t limited to just Steve and myself. Every dedicated member of the building crew put their heart and soul into the project. They delighted in showing me their latest ‘find’ during the partial-demolition process and how they thought it might be incorporated into the project. They would even hide some of the ‘treasures’ and surprise me with them during the reconstruction. For example, old farmers used to ‘brand’ each of their barns or projects with a certain symbol by burning or carving it into a wood wall. They would use the same symbol to mark/brand anything they had built. The crew found a few of these and would construct them into the perfect high-profile inside wall of the barn where that symbol’s history could be appreciated regularly.

What’s a historic barn without an adorable goat!

In every corner of the house, I find some reminder of the barn’s history, something special that is made from an item found in the barn or buried in its depths. For example, a plate rack made out of pieces of red barn walls, a hanging pot rack made out of an old oxen/horse ‘yoke,’ a wagon wheel that morphed into a window that now looks into the attached ‘unfinished’ part of the barn, and two ‘sister’ boards on the living room ceiling that obviously came from the same tree chopped down over 100 years ago in order to build the barn. Almost every feature in the house tells a story. To say that this place is special is an understatement.

The barn before being ‘reincarnated’

My barn house and its sister barn on my driveway are quintessential Vermont. They can be seen easily from the road; this visibility causes them to attract even more attention than most barns do. I like to welcome all photographers (and all barn lovers) because all old barns, working or abandoned, renovated or original, have a beauty and history that need to be shared. It also warms my heart to walk into a gift store or photography gallery and see a beautiful photo or painting of my barns.

Recently, when I find myself driving past battered, ‘sagging,’ abandoned barns… I can almost feel their pain. Barns with fragile creaking boards, or rattling, broken windows are begging for help, summoning anyone who has the means and desire to keep history alive, to keep them alive. I am very proud to have at least stopped the aging process of one old barn, so that it will cheat death ‘by a Nor’easter’ one day.

Thoughts from my barn contractor/co-collaborator, Steve Dandeneau: “What a pleasure it was to work alongside Jen on her iconic barn. Many times construction projects for us get started, are seen through the steps, completed and we move on to the next. We are fortunate to have the ability to show our creative side on most. But not all projects require digging in deep. Along came the opportunity to work with Jen on her barn vision and the ability to express our creativity and skills grew ten fold.

With what started as a loose conversation of the option to create living space in one of her existing barns, some simple line drawings from Jen defining use of space, evolved into a real special collaboration for our team and her. What really helped was Jen’s ability to visualize the whole package, express how the barn was going to be lived in, and an understanding that what we will create needs to look as if it has always been like this or evolved over the passage of time. Her ability to convey her persona (which is very accepting and open) allowed us to reach inside with open minds and find ways to finish this project in a way that became very personal to all who were able to contribute to it. Everyone, including Jen, seemed moved to always ask “how about this?” The openness of the environment she created facilitated this. I must say it was a very happy place for us to go every day. 

There is something that is so comforting that radiates from recreated old space and the use of old materials. Particularly an old barn. It is not for everyone. I feel you have to have a huge respect for the past and an understanding of history to really appreciate it.  The space we all worked together on is warm and inviting. It is not perfect, it is not over done. It retains so much charm that could only be fashioned out of the passage of time, elements and the touch of man, animal or insect. There are many wormholes in what used to be a working barn on a farm. 

Jen sent me some notes towards the end of the project. “If you can visualize it, if you can dream it, there’s some way to do it.” (Walt Disney) Thanks for visualizing it! And “What feels like the End… is often the Beginning.” How true on both! 

We have moved on to other projects taking a tremendous amount of pride with us. Jen’s barn led to another old historic local barn in Quechee we converted into living space. Fortunately, the owners were cut from the same cloth as Jen and another collaboration began. We enjoy the work we do because we love to help make people’s visions come true. I hope the work we do stands the test of time and someone in the future uses the materials we installed to make it their own.”

I was not a hiker. I was not a religious person. I was not trying to ‘find myself’ (although some might have thought I was lost).

Why did I walk the 500-mile Camino de Santiago pilgrimage….over and over again? Some might wonder. Some might question my sanity. But after walking six ‘Caminos’ in six years, most of my friends and family now FINALLY understand my obsession. There are many, many routes of the Camino de Santiago where ‘pilgrims’ have been walking since the 9th century. All routes (from origins all over Europe) end in Santiago, Spain, where legend has it that the remains of St. James are buried. The most popular route, the route I walked on my virgin camino, is the Camino Frances. It traditionally begins just over the Pyrenees on the border of France, a 30-day walk for
the average pilgrim.

Walking a camino is a lot like running a marathon. Some people, like me, can’t imagine running even one mile, so the thought of a marathon is like a day in Hell. Others get hooked, the obsession begins and it becomes ingrained in who they are. Even those runners who have side cramps, finish last (followed by the ambulance for 26 miles) or who whine all the way to the finish line, run marathons again. The camino shares the same phenomenon: everybody returns for more.

Why am I, personally, drawn back again and again? It is the unique combination of the many facets of the camino. It is the camaraderie, physical challenge, spiritual journey, monasteries, chapels, cultural exploration, global connections, laughing and crying with people you just met, learning more about myself, roughing it, reflection/thinking time, enjoying nature’s beauty, overcoming challenges together (mental and physical), and of course, following of the historical pilgrimage route with others. One or two of these facets alone could entice me back, but when all are found in one unforgettable experience, the pull to return is extra powerful.

When I blindly agreed to walk my first camino in 2013 with a few friends, I knew absolutely nothing about it. I have always been an  adventurous traveler, but this was different. I was stepping out of my comfort zone into a world of experienced hikers on an adventure of the body and soul.

European pilgrims a thousand years ago would start walking to Santiago from the front steps of their homes, with nothing but their faith. For me, however, I preferred to supplement with a quick shopping trip to REI. REI provided me with everything necessary for my little stroll. In fact, my 15-18 pound filled REI backpack became an extension of my body for those 30 days, and, after 30 days, I felt

naked without it. While it is possible to send your backpack ahead each night, carrying everything you need on your back is traditionally part of the experience. It also helps to teach us pilgrims how little you really need in life.

What do pilgrims hope to get out of the experience? Everyone has their own personal reason for walking and everyone’s reason is different. Many walk when going through a major challenge or change in their life and the camino provides the perfect therapy. Many, including the original pilgrims, consider the camino a pilgrimage of prayer, a spiritual experience. More often today, however, pilgrims walk (the first time) for the physical challenge or hoping to have tranquil, peaceful moments or possibly just for a fun adventure! Why does everyone return? They are seduced back by sensational memories.

Although the camino routes are walked by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims each year, and they have become increasingly more popular, they are definitely NOT for everybody. If you are high maintenance, finicky with food, asocial, germaphobic or prone to blisters on your feet, you might want to stick to a more conventional vacation.

There is lot of talk along the camino about different ways to walk… spiritual vs. non-spiritual, never taxi, hostel or hotel, 10 days or 5 weeks,
sightsee or beeline…So many options, so many ways. Although the talk is plentiful, there is no right or wrong way, no official ‘rules.’ No matter how you do it, it is your camino.

That being said, it is my personal opinion, the camino is meant to be walked alone. It is virtually impossible to not meet others immediately, so you are really never alone. You are always near other pilgrims from around the world and the camino magic (yes, it is magical) brings you together over and over again. You can start anywhere, on any route, with anyone, for any reason, but no matter who you start with, who you finish with, who you meet along the way or who you are walking in honor of, any pilgrimage is still about yourself, a personal journey. Friendships bring support, encouragement, laughter and often tears, but it is a pilgrim’s own heart, soul, determination and conviction (and treadless trail runners) that ultimately guide him/her through the archway to the Santiago Cathedral.

Occasionally I need some alone time on my journey, my ‘way.’ My favorite technique for ‘losing’ a friend, or politely telling someone I’d prefer to walk alone, is “I’ve got a rock in my shoe, I’ll catch up to you in a minute.” One day I met and walked with a handsome Dutch man, and would have considered going his way…but after walking together for awhile, he told me to go ahead because he ‘had a rock in his  shoe’….and I never saw him again… hmm.

It is a simple life. You wake up early, get dressed (although some people sleep in their walking clothes!), then walk as far as you can. Find a bed, shower, get some nourishment, maybe some vino tinto, tend to any ailments, probably socialize, crash by 10pm. Get up and do it again. Simplicity and routine bring plenty of time to contemplate life and time to enjoy the beautiful Spanish intricacies that can be truly appreciated only on foot.

Miracles happen every night on the camino. Often at the end of day, my body could not have gone one more step. What happens every night with every pilgrim, however, is the body heals, the mind forgets, and the next day you get back out and do it again, rain or shine. If the sleep doesn’t completely heal the body, putting it back on the road seems to work out the kinks. Each day brings a brand new beautiful start.

The camino can be done on a shoestring budget. However, as a girl who enjoys a small splurge now and then, a ‘camino splurge’ was when I
paid 10 euros at a hostel for a night (instead of the usual 5). I selfishly, luxuriously, got to sleep on a normal single rather than a bunk bed. Yes, occasionally it was worth an extra 5 euros to not feel and hear every move made by the 200 pound stranger sleeping/snoring on the top bunk. Some of the most memorable sleeping experiences were at historic monasteries and churches that had been converted into hostels, albergues and hotels. For an added bonus, they often included pilgrim blessings, gatherings, community meals or musical performances, which enhanced their charm.

On their final day of the camino, each pilgrim hobbles into the cathedral in Santiago as a different person on their outside: fewer toenails, tighter asses, more scars (those of us attacked by cows!), sleep deprived and often oozing blisters. OK, maybe there is a bit of suffering after all, as walking 10 to 20 miles a day will take its toll on a body, but some believe that suffering is part of, even necessary for, the true
pilgrim experience.

But more importantly, we proudly arrive in Santiago different on the inside: possibly a new personal outlook on life, new appreciation for other cultures, new spiritual connection, and of course, special bonds with new lifelong friends (many from backgrounds and lifestyles that you never would have crossed paths with back home).

The camino journey changes a person. Whether you start walking with that intention or not, you change. There’s no fighting it. Whether
it is a crazy fun adventure or a solo spiritual journey, you change. All six caminos have been different for me and all 6 have continued to change me. With each one, I learned more and more about myself and about others. I learned how to accept help from others and how much I enjoy giving back. I learned to appreciate the comfort that religion gives to others and most importantly, I learned how fortunate I am to be
able to live a life of freedom and how little I really need to enjoy that life. I learned how much I crave global connections and need to
continue to fuel and nurture those connections. I learned that encouraging others to do the same is how I can do my part in making the world a little smaller and a little better.

It has been said that the Camino is the link between who you were and who you will become. I have always been very lucky in life, but for much of my life, I wasn’t the true me. Each camino brings me one step, or 500 miles, closer to ‘who I will become.

Should you decide to spend your next international vacation ‘giving back’ or helping others, it will change not only someone else’s life, but also YOUR life.

My personal journey into international volunteerism started 10 years ago as a ‘Trip of a Lifetime.’ I celebrated my friend’s 50th birthday by joining her on an adventure with Habitat for Humanity to build a house for a deserving family in Botswana, Africa. After that trip to Botswana, I quickly became ‘Hooked on Habitat’ and, yes, I believe I am now addicted to this type of vacation.

On the surface it looks like an international volunteer is making a grand gesture of selflessness – giving up valuable time and hard-earned money to help others. Those of us lucky enough to have done one or multiple trips of this kind know the real truth: The volunteer benefits even MORE than the recipient. The volunteer gains SO much personally… it is hardly an altruistic act.

As an aside, in my opinion the true selfless volunteer is someone who quietly donates her time. My mother, for instance, has volunteered at her local Hospice Thrift Store almost every single Tuesday for over 25 years. THAT is true selflessness. People like my mother are the quiet heroes who often go unnoticed… but that is a story for another time.

Of course, the main goal of ANY international non-profit of this type is to give aid to people in countries that lack some of the basic necessities of life. How it changes the life of a volunteer forever is just an added bonus.

New friendships and special bonds are made on these trips among fellow volunteers and local affiliate workers. The most important friendships, however, are often with the deserving family receiving the help of the team. An important part of every build is this cultural exchange. Quite often the only impression the locals in these rural areas have of Americans (prior to our arrival) is from TV sitcoms and news. We do our best to show them our kinder, gentler, more generous, hardworking side. Volunteering is not part of many cultures. Therefore, we do our best to show how this can benefit everyone and how we can all have fun at the same time. In return, they always welcome us with open arms and open hearts. Additionally, if we are lucky, we are also greeted with a memorable arrival ceremony from the entire community that often includes singing, dancing and prayers of thanks – always a welcome to remember.

For a week, we are then thoroughly immersed in their culture, in their homes and in the intricacies of their lives. We see first-hand their daily struggles, their worries and what makes them happy. They are almost all driven to serve the wellbeing and futures of their children. We see them rooted in building a strong community. We see that many children have never gone to school or stopped going at a young age in order to help the family. We see Guatemalan children standing barefoot by kitchen wood fires making tortillas for hours every day, inhaling dangerous fumes. We see the machete as a standard household tool, used for everything (cutting bricks, firewood and coconuts) and by everyone (even toddlers!). We see young African girls (often carrying a younger sibling on their back) walking miles every morning to get fresh water for the family (carried in large containers on their heads). We see hungry children gather around the fire pit when the morning meal is served, eagerly awaiting their portion of rice, beans or tortillas. We see these same children then playing happily for hours with makeshift toy cars (from old Coke cans) or kicking around a partially deflated soccer ball. We see the patriarch of a family leave every day to collect firewood with a bad leg then arrive many hours later with an enormous bundle of wood on his back.

Upon his return, I ask this particular homeowner if I can take a photo of him and his wife. He obliges, but not before he goes into his old adobe house to find his ‘good hat’ for the photo. We see a young homeowner (Roru, who now lives in his new 2-room house with 14 others) working his tail off with us, joking and laughing with us, and on the final day as we say goodbye, he cries with us. A memory I will cherish forever is Roru running after our van, waving goodbye as we drove away down the dirt road in Botswana. Although there wasn’t a dry eye in the van, our hearts were content. We knew Roru’s family (who had been living in a temporary hut made from our building supplies) would now have a proper cement block home – just days before the rain and cold arrived.

In addition to Habitat builds, I have recently found another worthy organization that I highly recommend, for ANYbody, but especially for those with any medical experience. It is called HELPS International and they do work only in Guatemala, a beautiful country that is desperately in need of help and is very near and dear to my heart. HELPS is primarily free medical clinics/surgeries, set up ‘M.A.S.H.’ style in different locations around Guatemala. I recently completed a week with the HELPS team from Michigan. In one week’s time, we (120 volunteers) saw 1200 patients in the clinic and performed 180 surgeries, and my (non-medical) group built 42 smokeless stoves in nearby homes. It truly was a remarkable week in which I am honored and lucky to have been part of the team.

At the end of any trip (especially from a third world country), as team leader, I always prepare the team for ‘re-entry’ back into ‘real life’ – not as easy as it sounds. Every detail of life back home is now different. Things we took for granted are now viewed in a new light and appreciated like never before…running water, electricity, above-ground toilets, putting toilet paper IN the toilet (instead of in a bin), transportation, non-dirt floors… a roof over our heads. We appreciate the little things in life and listen to the world news with a new perspective. We return with enthusiasm to continue to make a difference and to spread the word.

There are many reputable international non-profits bringing about positive change in the world, but if you decide to explore a vacation option, I recommend you choose the option that focuses on the issues that are meaningful to YOU. If education or sustainable living are important to you, find a trip that addresses these. I have been mostly concentrating on housing solutions. I agree with Habitat’s vision of ‘A world where everyone has a decent place to live.’ I also choose this type of trip because, personally, it feeds my soul. We get to know a family, a culture, from the inside out – almost impossible for the average traveler or volunteer.

There’s nothing like it.

The international volunteer experience will open your eyes, reboot your priorities and restore a bit of hope. With each new friendship made, each global connection, you will help bring the world a little closer….one stove, one latrine, one house…one friendship at a time.”