I remember when we moved here in 2007 there was still coal stored in one section and wood stored in another. I cannot imagine how many coal scuttle's have been filled out of that faithful old building nor how many ricks of wood have been house in the other section.
Now as for the area called the wash house - I don't ever remember Grandmother Grubbs washing clothes out there. I am every so thankful to only remember washing machines in which to launder clothes.
In recent years the building was where you went when you need any bolt, nut, screw, nail, brad, staple or maybe even a plug to put in an old foot tub. Most of those items were stored in a re-purposed containers. There were countless old baby food jars, empty coffee cans or handmade wooden boxes.
The reality was that though it was full of memories, and such a part of us - was falling down. You could see into it from most any angle from the missing boards. So, for safety's sake, my husband had the sad task of tearing it down. There is now a void where memories once stood - but the great thing of about memories - is no one can take those from us.