One of my neighbor's two barns across the street. These barns are enormous and beautifully kept. The last photo is his other barn. Working barns. 
Old barn on Aldergrove
Working barn on Olsen
I have a confession to make. I love big old barns. I mean, I don't just like barns, I desire and covet them. My children roll their eyes and say "m-o-o-o-o-m," but when I see a particularly lovely barn I stop the car and drool for a while. My idea of a great way to spend a sunday afternoon is driving around the county looking for cool barns I've never seen before. Right now, a property that I drive by almost every day is for sale, and I am dearly hoping they have an open house, and that if they do, they will let me tour their barn, which is truly a beauty, one of the best preserved and largest classic old barns in the area.
There was a smallish barn on the little farm I grew up on. In retrospect, it was a terrifying death trap, a tragedy waiting to happen, but at the time it was the coolest place to play EVER. There was a big hayloft with a trapdoor and we could jump through it and land in the hay underneath. Once I caught my armpit on a nail sticking out from the side of that trapdoor and got a hell of a scratch all down my side. Another time I stepped on a nail sticking up from a board and ran all the way back to the house with a piece of two by four clump-clump-clumping along with me. There was one baby goat (forget her name) who could climb the ladder and get up in the hayloft with us and we just thought that was the funniest thing in the world.
Now I have two stupid little pre-fab barns from Home Depot, which were expensive and make me feel like a poseur. But what are you gonna do? As much as I adore and admire beautiful big old barns, I'm actually kind of glad I don't have one. I understand they are murder to maintain.
