Beer run!

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Are we the only people who wait for a wind driven snow to make an hour long trip to the nearest military exchange to buy beer?

Probably.

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But look! They sell beer soap too.

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As well as this evil spirit I discovered when we lived down south.

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Purple Passion was my neighbor’s favorite and when I drank 5 or 6 of them because they tasted like Kool Aid? I was sorry.

Very, very sorry.

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Beer shopping with my husband sometimes gets out of hand.

7 six packs and a case of hard cider later?

He came home with a little something extra for the barn.

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*Gulp*

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Shopping is not for the faint hearted.

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Our search for 30 inch tall bar chairs has begun.

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And it’s not going well.

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24 inch counter height chairs abound.

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But apparently no one else (builds a two story barn with a farmer’s porch for storage, decides they rather have a spectacular man cave, spends endless months and thousands of dollars making it attractive, contracts out construction of a full bar and) needs taller than normal chairs.

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11 furniture stores later?

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Liquid sustenance at our local pub, and the husband came home with these instead.

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I’m seriously beginning to wonder if he’s going to live out there.

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A bar is born!

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We came home from the grocery store yesterday and found this:

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The contractor had been at work in the barn and started the bar!

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My husband was thrilled… but had to check the measurements to be sure.

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Can you picture me standing back there mixing margaritas?

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I’ve been battling for a nicely stained finish but the husband is trying to cheap out and go natural. I fear neither of us will be fully satisfied… but at least we’ll have someplace sturdy to belly up to soon.

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On second thought, don’t. Some things are simply too frightening to contemplate.

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Gifts for the booze hounds in your life.

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Christmas is right around the corner and you need a gift for that certain tipsy someone. Allow me to put forth a few suggestions…

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40 bottles should satisfy even the most hardcore wino on your list.

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Wine on the go? It’s definitely an upgrade from that brown paper bagged Manischewitz and Boones Farm you drank as a teenager.

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Because who among us hasn’t lost a perfectly good glass of the grape in the grass?

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Sipping while dipping?

Sign me up.

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I’ve actually tried these, they’re brilliant.

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I’m so down with this. A carry on margarita is a beautiful thing.

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This looks like an intriguing way to chill your beer.

And they can double as drum sticks when Back in Black comes on the radio. A win win.

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And then there was beer.

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The man cave refrigerator came in a week earlier than planned and my husband rushed right out to the store to pick it up.

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We had our doubts it would fit through the small door…

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But the husband managed to wiggle it in.

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And then refused my help….

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While proceeding to crab walk it across the floor.

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Packing removed..

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And plugged in..

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It was determined to be the perfect repository for the husband’s delicate handmade airplane.

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Let the stocking begin!

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*gulp*

Perhaps we should have bought a bigger one.

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Well… time told.

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And I don’t like what it had to say.

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Not one damn bit.

Sadly after all the roofing repairs my husband and his friends did the other day… nothing changed.

It’s still leaking.

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So we went back up in the attic and realized the wood and shingles they replaced the other day probably weren’t high enough up on the roof.

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So now our ceiling looks even worse.

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And though he thinks he knows where to make the next repair?

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It was on the day our first N’or Easter started blowing in… so I doubt it will be anytime soon.

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And now we throw sharp objects at a wall.

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The man cave has a pool table.. and will soon be filled with beer.

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So naturally it needs sharp projectiles.

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And a regulation distance marker to stand behind when hurling them.

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Why not the sign we bought after we literally stood on the corner in Winslow Arizona?

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Dart board cabinet installation complete….

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The husband proceeded to kick my ass in our inaugural game.

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Yes, that’s a triple 20 pointer…. twice. But splitting the damn dart?

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No one likes a show off.

And during game number two?

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He did it again.

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Hell, after a toddy or two I’m lucky if I can hit the wall, no less aim for and hit the same spot.

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As evidenced by this shot that stuck in the floor.

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Cheers!

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Going, going… gone.

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Now that the man cave/ barn Mahal is starting to shape up? The husband wanted things out. My things that is.

Our old loveseat has been stored in there for years, and I was sad to see it go because it’s wicked comfortable and matched the walls quite well.

I voted for keeping it as you can never have too many comfy kick back with a beer or cocktail places to sit, but was instantly over ruled.

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The first person turned out to be the in-law of the man who stained our barn, so goodbye loveseat.

The next thing he made me get rid of was the driftwood tree. He’s been squawking about it’s removal for months now and no matter how much I tried to convince him it would be a unique addition to the barn decor?

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The minute I listed it? Three women were fighting over it. Guess I should have sold it instead.

So two of the things I wanted to keep were gone…. and guess what was added?

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A turkey foot that flips you off.

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This was a retaliation gift for the plaque I made the previous owner of the pool table after my husband beat him badly at the first game. They insisted the foot and plaque accompany the table…. so we’re now the proud owners of a petrified foot.

What do you want to bet we’re the only house on our block with one of those?

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Thank goodness for friends.

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When your ceiling looks like this?

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And your fireplace looks like this?

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You call in the cavalry.

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Or rather two friends who aren’t afraid of heights.

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Then you buy lots of this…

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And hope they can find the source of the leaks.

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A full day was spent searching, stripping, caulking and replacing shingles….

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In less than balmy weather.

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The view out my window was interesting at times :

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And 7 chilly hours plus one large spaghetti lunch later? They think they solved the problem…. but I guess time will tell.

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I should have known this was coming.

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The Barn Mahal is the gift that keeps on giving. It grows. It changes. It morphs into something I no longer recognize as a barn.

Why do I say this?

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Because last week my husband took me shopping for the next addition to his man cave extraordinaire.

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Yes.

He wants a refrigerator.

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And because he’s a man who demands instant gratification, he wanted to go home with it that day… which we quickly discovered was impossible. Thank you Covid 19…. yet another reason you suck.

All the refrigerators pictured on this blog, every last one of the small barn appropriate models that were on the display floor?

Unavailable.

It was enough to send us to our local pub for a drink… or two, and lunch.

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Which for me was a massive fried haddock sandwich with homemade onion rings. For the husband?

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A tool box and the light filtering blind we bought for the window we always sit in front of. The sun shines through it something fierce and we were tired of our bartender talking to us with his hand over his eyes.

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For this kindness we refused payment… support your local businesses!…but received 4 free drinks when the bill was presented.

A win win.

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And then it was back to the elusive we’ll show it to you but you can’t have it, neener neener refrigerator shopping.

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The absolutely only one anyone had in stock was this small, wonderfully inexpensive model.

The husband vetoed that. Not enough room for beer.

So we spent a fruitless day, visited 7 stores and ended up coming home to order this one online.

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Ample beer storage will be had…

But not for a week or two.

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