Saving the good parts

I've always loved the smell of fall.  It's not a sweet smell, and it's hard to describe.  It's a 'full' smell.  It's not pungent, though much closer to that than sweet.  Though not sweet, it's not adversarial like pungent.  It's just the moist smell of leaves deteriorating. The smell of this is nice.  Not because of the deterioration taking place, but from the memories it evokes.  The smell reminds me of the time of year when, as a child, I remember loading up my hockey gear into the car to go to the rink.  Those were good days.

Today, those same smells are wafting through the air.  The air is somewhat chilled as summer is clearly over.  The leaves are thick on the ground, with those underneath moist and heavy creating this aroma.  Those recently fallen blow around the yard.

The end of summer, the arrival of fall, and the soon to be wintertime, has done nothing to slow down my father.  He is busy building.  He is always building, him.

And he's building today.  Mid October, he's decided he wants to build a greenhouse.  He's determined that he'll plant in March.  He's 75 years old.  Though that doesn't deter him.  Nothing ever has.  I admire him in that respect.  I admire it because I don't think I have that same determination.  The reasons for that, I won't broach here.  Suffice to say, that if I could live up to what he has done in his life, I'd be doing alright.

Today, I'm the cutter.  I don't mean that in the emo sense of the word.  I am not cutting myself.  I'm cutting the lumber.  I'm measuring and cutting.  The engineering is left to my dad and his brother, his two year junior.  They figure it out and I cut it.  They are building the greenhouse with recycling in mind.  I think it's more from their upbringing than from any environmental concerns.  Either way, it's a good thing.

They have both kept the windows they've replaced from their houses.  Some windows they've come upon during yard sales.  This is what the greenhouse will be made of.  Those spaces not being occupied by windows are to be covered as well.  Aesthetics are important to the two old fellas.  They've decided that the old barn boards that have been put away for 35 years ought to do the job.

You see, 35 years ago, they tore down a large barn, that since I've learned was built in 1917.  The lumber was stored.  We are using 95 year old lumber to build this greenhouse.

Sent with the measurements and the barn lumber, I cut the boards to the lengths and widths prescribed by my dad and Uncle Brian.  As I cut the lumber, the aromas are strong.  They are much different than when you are cutting fresh cedar.  Those aromas are strong.  While these are just as strong, they remind me so much of wandering inside the old barn and other structures long gone from the homestead such as the Machine Shed that stored all of the farm implements.  The smells that come from cutting that lumber remind me so much of my childhood.  It's a childhood that my dear old dad and my as adored mom afforded me.

To be truthful, at times, I thought my dad a bit ridiculous for saving all he could from the discarded.....maybe not so much now....

(Unedited.....maybe I'll edit it later.....and maybe I'll just save the good parts....)