Tag Archives: barn

And on the 3,037th day….

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There was heat.

Yes, that’s really how long we’ve been working on the big barn. Saying we don’t like to rush things is a bit of an understatement.

But last week, this happened:

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The son of our soon to be ex friends came over to install a heat pump. It’s his business, and while I’m still cursing our rat bastard friends for giving us the free pool table that’s cost us thousands… their son is a great guy.

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Of course he might have been cursing them as well because drilling a hole through a building my husband built isn’t as easy as it should be.

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What should have taken mere minutes turned into a bit of an ordeal. And when that happens…

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You grab a hammer.

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After the hole was finally cut, it was just a matter of mounting the unit.

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With my husband… the man who has never lined up anything perfectly straight in his life…. standing back and saying, nope. It needs to go up a little on the left.

I believe my jaw dropped open at that point.

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Outside, the electrician connected power to the box… next to all the scrap wood that had to be hauled from under the barn to run the cable.

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And the rest of the crew installed the compressor thingamagig.

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Which is ugly as all get out but thankfully is on the one barn wall we can’t see from our house.

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I was glad to see they used great stuff. Because I’m sure awful stuff is more readily available, not to mention cheaper.

So…

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The big barn now has a heat pump. And future bar patrons can be assured of proper ambient drinking temperature.

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Cost of that free pool table so far?

$7,764. And no, he’s not done yet. The open stairwell still needs to be sealed off to prevent heat loss.

Free.

It’s the gift that keeps on giving.

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Oh no, not again.

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I walked into the barn this morning to find my husband working on a template.

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And yes, I cringed.

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Having finished one side of the strapping on the ceiling and running out of that particular wood, he decided it was time to trim the windows.

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And while I applauded the fact he was actually going to corner them properly, I knew it wouldn’t be smooth sailing.

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One day.

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One entire day to frame two windows … because he added quarter round.

Why did he add quarter round you ask?

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Because when he first built this barn to be a… you know, barn? …there were giant gaps around the windows and nothing was air tight. Who was going to complain…. the lawn mowers?

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But now that’s it morphed into a palatial man cave, gaps must be sealed.

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And live ordinance moved.

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Framing on the outside, quarter round on the inside, and extra quarter round on the top corners…. all because he didn’t install the windows correctly the first time.

Jesus wept.

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But two windows were framed…

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And the giant bullet is back home.

To be continued…. unfortunately.

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I’m ready to cry Uncle.

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First it was not at all temporary temporary doors. Then insulation and a ceiling and new light fixtures and floor moulding and quarter round.

Now?

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The husband is installing strapping to cover the plywood ceiling seams.

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Technically this is finish work. And we all know that is not where his talents lie.

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Was the strapping straight?

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Not so much.

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Of course when I helpfully pointed that out, I got booted from the barn/man cave/Maine Taj Mahal.

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When I went back 2 hours later? He informed me the strapping wasn’t right and needed to be redone.

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Hmm. Why didn’t I think of that?

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Cutting and more cutting.

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Cutting around the light fixtures I tried to tell him to center 2 weeks ago.

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But all the cutting resulted in straighter lines.

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Aggravating? No doubt.

But…

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We did have gorgeous fall foliage in the background so I’ll call it a win.

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I’m seeing red.

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No, the husband hasn’t bought the contents of that abandoned Victorian up the road….

I mean this kind of red.

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Weeee!

Our first glimpse of what poppa barn will look like when finished.

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The trim will be added after.

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And there’s a lot of it to add.

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But I’m excited to see him finally sporting some color.

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I think baby barn agrees.

So maybe it wasn’t quite the miracle I thought.

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The other day I blogged about the miracle of finding my husband getting rid of things in the big barn.

I was happy!

I was thrilled!

Heck, I was downright orgasmic.

Until I walked upstairs.

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A lot of the things I thought he’d gotten rid of…

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Had just migrated upward instead. So with determination in my step I went back down to help him sort through things to throw away.

It did not go well.

Here are a few of the items he couldn’t bear to part with.

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No, you’re not seeing double. That’s a flippable measuring cup… though why on earth you’d need to flip one I don’t know.

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Blank dog tags.

A box of them.

Why? Unless he’s planning to outfit a woodchuck army…. I don’t see the point.

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A rock.

And while I’m normally all about the rocks, I do prefer mine outside…. or slowly cooling my gin and tonic.

Finally there was this:

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He wouldn’t part with it, even though he didn’t know where he’d gotten it or what the hell it was.

So let me resurrect that old blog series I used to torture you with..

Name That Crap!

What is it?

( And yes, I did research so I know the answer. )

It’s a miracle!

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Somewhere …. pigs are flying. I know this because I went out to the big barn and saw something I never thought I’d see.

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My husband sorting through and …. are you sitting down?… actually throwing things out!

It’s true. And I might have wept with joy. (After an orgasm. Or two. )

Not only did he throw things out….

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He chopped some up and cut them into little pieces.

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Okay he did it with a saw that was on the floor because the tables were covered in crap… but still!

The old rotten shelf with the 40 degree lean that was filled with useless stuff? Gone!

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Whatever this was?

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It and all it’s relatives… gone!

I couldn’t figure out why this was happening, but it’s like extended happy hour at your favorite bar…. you don’t ask why. You just drink till you pass out.

And then I noticed where all of these things were going.

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In piles alongside the deck.

One minute there was a rusty folding camp bed and broken sewing machine table…. the next minute? They were gone.

I assumed the husband was loading up his truck for a dump run, but no.

It turns out the man who we hired to paint our barn wanted it.

All of it.

And was filling up the back of his truck.

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Pardon the terrible through the screen photo but I was so happy to see the crap leave our property I had to.

So miracles do happen, and the best miracle of all?

We’d hired a fellow hoarder! And I realized the husband wasn’t throwing out his treasure…. he was gifting it.

Why in the world didn’t I think of this sooner?

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Moulding obstacle course.

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Next up on the big barn beautification series?

Floor moulding.

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Which, ironically was cut on the floor… because there was too much crap on the tables.

But parts of it were looking good.

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Other parts were… questionable.

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And when it came time to move the 2 ton safe?

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No one was happy.

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I looked for the owner of that scythe. But he wears black, and could have been hiding anywhere….

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When moulding had to be installed here… under the pile of extremely heavy boards?

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It was like a ballet.

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And because it’s a building designed and constructed by my husband?

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The east wall turned out to be slightly longer than the west. 36 feet…. and one inch. Not what you want to find when you’re running the last piece of trim.

The search for perfection.

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So now the husband wants to add floor moulding in his big barn… and you know what that means.

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An entire afternoon picking through more wood than I thought humanly possible.

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Granted, even I would reject that baby.

But come on…..

If he would take half as much time installing it as he does picking it out I might not mind. But nothing is going to be perfectly cornered or angled or mitered so why bother!

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Our afternoon trip ended here.

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With the moon rising and me refusing to cook the pork roast dinner I had planned.

You want perfect wood? You have to pay the piper.

Or in this case, the pizza place.