Tag Archives: barn mahal

Say hello to Otis.

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Have I ever introduced you to Otis?

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He’s a large (expensive!) metal sculpture of an osprey on a nest that my late mother bought us over 10 years ago with the understanding he would be mounted on the Barn Mahal when construction was complete.

Sadly, my mother passed away before that happened and Otis has languished on the top floor waiting for deployment ever since.

Unfortunately the nest on which he was sat was unable to be affixed to the barn roof as is … so we had to hire a welder to design a mount which we just now did.

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Said mount, nest and bird needed to go here.

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And that wasn’t an easy task.

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But on a recent overcast day a friend was called and the job started.

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With little to no enthusiasm I may add.

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Finding the right spot to bolt the mount proved tricky and I was sent upstairs to make sure the holes were in the right place.

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Upstairs…

Otherwise known as my spouse’s airplane hangar of crap.

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If there’s empty space, you know my guy is going to fill it. I rarely get up here since the overhead door is heavy and beyond my meager arm strength.

But every time I do make the climb….

I find new (old) things.

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Did we need 4 wooden sleighs?

We did not, but apparently we own them all the same.

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I also found a rubber chicken…

As one does.

🥴

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My tootsies are tickled, even if my wallet isn’t.

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Weeee!

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Bye bye flat and awful industrial grade dusty rose horror the previous owners laid….

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Welcome soft, plush, hella expensive but worth it Karastan Instinctive Flair Renoir Bisque.

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Seriously, until you walk on this barefoot you can’t begin to know what I’m talking about. It’s smooth and silky and sheer perfection.

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The installers were here for 6 hours, working nonstop… and they did a really nice job.

So nice, my husband took them out to the man cave/Barn Mahal for a cold beer.

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And then proceeded to show them all his treasures.

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They were a captive audience.

🤣

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A barn day, beer and a squatter.

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With overcast skies and rain in the forecast my husband and I headed to the Barn Mahal for an afternoon of entertainment.

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Stepping on the porch, I realized we had a squatter.

Do you see it?

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In the upper corner to the right of the door.

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Someone has built a nest.

❤️

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After beating my husband at two games of Scrabble, we switched to pool… where my husband is guaranteed to win.

I like to play but I’m not very good. Can’t bank to save my life, but I won four out of ten so at least it wasn’t a rout.

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How long did we play?

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Long enough to require a keg change.

🤣

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Rain + barn = beer. And a woodchuck.

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When it’s a wet and rainy afternoon you’re apt to find us in the man cave/Barn Mahal.

Sometimes alcohol is present.

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I’m blaming the Jack Abbeys blood orange wheat for that Scrabble tile arrangement.

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Red Sox game? Check.

Pizza? Check.

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Sweet Thai chili wings and more beer?

Double check.

Life is good.

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Looking out the window back at the garage, we saw a baby chuck perched on the woodshed’s extra room doorstep.

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They’ve completely taken over this little storage area and have dug such a big tunnel the door neither opens nor shuts. Good thing there’s nothing in there we need to retrieve…

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They really don’t succ.

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I used to have various pots of succulents scattered around the Barn Mahal/man cave. Mainly because no room I inhabit can be plantless but also due to their relatively carefree nature. Sadly I’m not out there as often as I used to be and though the husband still has friends in to play pool, he never thinks to water them… so with the heat pump sucking every drop of moisture out of the air all winter? A lot of them died.

After retrieving their carcasses, I did something I thought I’d never do.

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Yup.

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I bought a bunch of fakes.

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And I have to say, I’m rather impressed.

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While it goes against my gardening grain to resort to artificial, we have to close the blinds in the summer to avoid drying out and cracking the leather chairs as well as trying to prevent the a/c from running non stop so the real ones spent most of their time in the dark.

Enter the fake succulents.

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And though I really hate to admit it? Fake succulents don’t actually suck.

Who knew?

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I did manage to keep my jade plant alive and healthy so thankfully it’s not all plastic fantastic in there.

And speaking of dead things? I did a little recon in the beer fridge and found some dip that expired the beginning of March and creamer that died in January.

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Old junk isn’t the only thing my husband refuses to throw out.

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A time for reflection.

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The end of another dreadful,WTF year is approaching and it’s time to look back.

Not on anything serious mind you, but rather….

This:

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What the inside of our storage barn looked like then…

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And what it looks like now.

Before…

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And after two years of nothing to do but stay home and try to avoid the global plague.

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While I’m the first to admit 2020 and 2021 have sucked the big root, they did afford us the time and energy (not to mention the tens of thousands of dollars we saved on travel) to transform our packed with useless crap storage space….

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Into the Barn Mahal/Man Cave Extraordinaire you see today.

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We won’t mention the fact that all the husband’s “treasure” has simply migrated upstairs and forms the same giant pile of crap, just on a higher level.

No.

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We shall instead marvel at the transformation..

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And pour ourselves a drink.

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Cheers!

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Does a moose drool?

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The staircase in the man cave/Barn Mahal has been put into service as an impromptu bulletin board.

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Photos, stickers, and funny cards have begun to surround the magnetic bottle opener.

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The husband has had this one since he was 25 years old. He thought it was funny then…

Now? Not so much.

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That gem was lodged inside an old book he bought at an antique store.

But back to the title of my post.

Does a moose drool?

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Thanks to my blogging friend mistermuse, I can authoritatively say yes…. at least in Missoula Montana where the Big Sky Brewery produced a beer whose label was saved and thoughtfully mailed to yours truly.

It’s the perfect addition to a Maine bar… and I’m sure we will now be the envy of all our friends.

👍

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I had to.

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When I found and bought my most fabulous beer tap a while back, I ran across another one I knew I had to buy as well.

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I mean really, how could I not?

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It’s a woodchuck. Holding an apple. They could have modeled him after our yearly brood.

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Perfect for a man cave/barn whose crawl space serves as a seasonal chucker hotel.

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He now has pride of place on an overturned shot glass in between the giant bullet and my freaky cocktail stirrers.

Life is good.

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