Old Fashioned Family Ways
We are the Wood family. We love puppies, old houses, driving slow with the top down, sunsets on the lake, and sand in our toes. We feel lucky to have raised our family in the same little house that our kids’ great-grandparents moved into as newlyweds in 1936. Colen loved to farm & Sally was one heck of a nurse. Oh, and did we mention she loved yellow roses, just like us? Like all families, they had ups and downs – they struggled to grow kids, crops, and make a go of things. We love and admire them, and their story is part of ours.
We have long dreamed of building a space where family & friends can gather and celebrate. When it was time to build our barn, We knew we were building it to last. We like doing things the old-fashioned way, which meant bringing in huge timbers, fastened with mortise and tenon joints, one peg at a time. Besides being beautiful, our timber framed barn reminds us of our heritage - of all the “good timber” in our past, whose strength amidst storm & wind established such a solid foundation for our family.
Life can feel like a lot of fuss sometimes, but we believe in finding joy in each other and in the special milestones that come as our families grow. We hope our barn will be a place where the very best memories are made, that it can provide the “roses” amongst the hard in life. We imagine daddy-daughter dances, good music, lots of laughter, & maybe even a few happy tears (because that’s what us old folks do when our kids grow up).
Welcome to The Timbered Rose. We invite you to bring your favorite people & enjoy the heck out of them.
Good Timber
The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.
The man who never had to toil
To gain and farm his patch of soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
But lived and died as he began.
Good timber does not grow with ease,
The stronger wind, the stronger trees,
The further sky, the greater length,
The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
In trees and men good timbers grow.
Where thickest lies the forest growth
We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold counsel with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife.
This is the common law of life.
-Douglas Malloch