Tag Archives: decorating

Things I don’t need.

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I dislike Pepsi and find it sickeningly sweet.

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So Apple Pie Pepsi? That’s a hard pass.

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While this sounded like a cute idea?

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The aesthetics leave a lot to be desired. That looks less like a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie and more like a mouth filled with…. well, never mind.

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Sorry, but my cabinet doors aren’t playing loud music past 10:00 pm or yelling at their husband to pick up his dirty socks. No noise suppression is required.

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First they want me to exercise with rubber bands, now they want me to wrap them around my mattress? I’ll tell you right now…. neither one of those things will be happening anytime soon.

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No.

Just, no.

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Vintage recycling.

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Since I multi purposed our giant crock as a trash can, I decided I wanted something equally fun and antiquey for returnables.

You would think shopping in my husband’s vast array of crap stuff would yield the appropriate receptacle, but sadly nothing was found. Which is when my spouse gleefully suggested we visit the antique mall.

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I was on a mission and didn’t dilly dally. The same can not be said for my spouse.

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I moved him quickly away from this horror…

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Because right now the only thing the barn Mahal doesn’t have is a kitchen sink… and I wasn’t taking any chances.

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Fresh lobster made us laugh. There’s nothing worse than cheeky crustaceans.

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I had my eye on that wagon to the right. But at $520 it seemed a bit pricey for empty beer bottles.

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Even the chicken thought so.

And then I found it…

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Buried in the back and full of oars.

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$50 later…. the old barrel with original lid… made a perfect returnable container.

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The blog where things are moved and hung.

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Since all the trim work was finished in the barn, it was time for a little decorating…. husband style.

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The old washing machine was slid across the floor.

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A few military helicopter pictures were hung.

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And of course….

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His favorite sign of all was prominently placed.

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Moving back inside….

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A second tier of shelves was built into every corner.

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And then it was time to go shopping upstairs.

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Apple press?

Check!

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Butter table?

Check!

And then my husband, the man who visibly cringes every time I put a nail hole in our walls….

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The man who has given me hell for each and every thing I have ever hung in our home…. decided this would be his I love me section and plans to fill it with photos and plaques while turning his barn walls into Swiss cheese.

I admit, I may have cackled at this point. The irony was simply too strong.

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How many tables does one man need?

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After the Barn Mahal clean out… there was open space. Glorious, uncluttered open space. I knew it wouldn’t last, but I appreciated it all the same.

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And when I looked around? There was a table and chairs.

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Okay, we’re building a bar for that… but whatever.

The next day?

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There was another table and chairs.

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The day after that 3 more tables had migrated their way in. WTH? Is the husband planning on opening a cafe….

Which is exactly what I asked him during our inaugural beer.

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No, it wasn’t our first time on the nectar of the gods merry go round, but it was the first time we drank inside the barn, seated at a table, with heat.

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I never did get an answer to my why do you need 5 fricking tables question… but we did manage to get that stupid mobility scooter we wasted $850 on last year up and running again.

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We purchased it second hand for his brother, who swore he needed it… until we gave it to him free of charge, when he decided he didn’t want it after all. 😡

We tried selling it last year but didn’t have any luck. Now the husband wants it gone so I’m going to list it again… for half what we paid, damn it…. and see what happens.

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Note to self? It’s probably not a good idea to drink beer for hours and then fully charge a scooter.

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The following day I figured if I couldn’t beat the too many tables paradigm, I’d join it… and hung a little something of my own for flavor.

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Perfect!

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The transformation has begun.

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The pool table was uncovered, brushed and racked.

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A hat and coat rack was hung by the door.

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And a few vintage WWII propaganda posters from 1943 I’ve been meaning to frame were framed and displayed.

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It was during this time we decided the ugly bracing pole in the middle of the room… which was never supposed to be there but was deemed necessary when we noticed the top floor bounced when we walked on it during the original construction…. needed to be spruced up.

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The (now lovely) wood walls and trimmed windows demanded it.

I expected to blog about the normal nightmare of measuring and cutting and cursing but things went remarkably well.

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Maybe we’re finally getting the hang of it.

So…. the before.

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And the after.

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Please don’t ask why he put my porch barrels on the loveseat. I have no reasonable explanation for that.

The end is in sight. I think…

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A few more windows needed trimming…

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Which meant a lot more measuring, cutting and cursing…

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Why the cursing?

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Because the last window was not what you… or any semi sober person… would call square.

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Oops.

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Cover the gap with quarter round, trim…. then call it good and move on to the porch door.

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Yes, the porch is my domain … so the porch door has a seasonally appropriate wreath. Man cave be damned.

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Trimming this slapped together frame for a door that came from the dump proved challenging.

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And yes, the language got as colorful as the wreath.

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But it was only when the husband looked down…

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And realized the floor moulding should meet the vertical door trim… not the other way around… that he knew he had some tinkering to do.

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But viola!

Adjustments were made and everything that needed to be trimmed was finally trimmed.

Is this the end of the Barn Mahal interior construction?

Only time will tell.

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Kitchen aerobics.

 

I’m beginning to get used to having the husband work from home.

Yes, it’s a little annoying trying to tiptoe around the house and be quiet all day long…. but there are distinct advantages.

Advantage #1?

It’s harder for him to avoid the honey do list that’s been growing exponentially since we moved in 18 years ago.

No more long commutes from the office, no more grumpy, tired of fighting I-95 traffic on the way home husband.

When he clocks out? I can grab him.

This week it was for blind installation in the kitchen.

 

 

Which in the tight space over the sink wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

 

 

He got quite a workout.

 

 

Take that Jane Fonda.

 

 

As the hours wore on ( what… you thought it would be minutes? ) the brackets wouldn’t mount properly, and when they did, the blinds wouldn’t click into place.

 

 

Serious thought went into why they crashed to the ground every time you pulled them down.

 

 

Non OSHA approved climbing apparatus was used.

 

 

And curtain rod mounts had to be removed, reinstalled, removed, repositioned, removed again and yes, cursed. Repeatedly.

Want to frustrate your husband? Forget withholding sex…. make him hang curtains.

But finally it was done.

 

 

They moved up and down and stayed there.

 

 

If you’ve never tried this kind of blind, I highly recommend them. They’re attractive and block the hot sun while allowing filtered light to shine through.

 

 

And if you need some installed? Let me know.

I’m sure the husband is anxious to do a few more.

Margarita heaven….

 

Our last night with our special visitors ended at Jose Tequilas because…. well, you knew it had to.

Greeted at the door by this…..

 

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And this….

 

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I knew it was going to be a fun place.

 

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The colors were bright and cheerful.

 

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And the margarita list was a mile long.

Heaven, I tell you…. pure heaven!

 

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I started with the Prickly Pear and Destiny had the Mango…. we both said large, and yes they were.

 

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The Dia de los Meurtos theme was fabulous… and everywhere you looked.

 

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After a few of those large (and quite potent) margaritas? I wouldn’t be surprised if someone asked those chicas to dance.

 

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I tried to persuade our table to order grilled cactus, but there were no takers.

 

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Though a second round of medium sized margaritas was approved for us girls.

Purple Gecko for me, Cool Cucumber for Destiny.

And yes, Martin… there was food.

 

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Although Mexican food never looks as good as it tastes.

Chicken enchiladas, Spanish rice and re-fried beans….

 

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Quesadillas….

 

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And churros.

 

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A good time was had by all.

There was a third round of margaritas…. the Tamerindo Guava and a Coco Loco respectively…. but yours truly forgot to photograph those.

And to be honest? By that time I was very glad the resort was only 2 minutes away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 9…. the Manor House and a goose free resort change.

 

Sunday dawned bright and sunny and our visitors wanted to check out the Manor House at the Historic Powhatan Resort.

 

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The smallest of our group thoroughly enjoyed it.

 

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Especially when she found a pint sized door just her size.

 

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Shame it wouldn’t open.

 

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But the game room was a good second choice.

 

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I had occasion to use the rest room this trip….

 

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And immediately fell in love with a sink.

Is that wrong?

 

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Sadly, it was Sunday….. and that meant it was time to change resorts.

When we time share travel and I’ve never been to the area? I usually choose 2 different resorts for our 2 week stays in case one of them is a dud. Of course we adored this first place and hated to leave….especially when Gracie found this under the bed when we were packing up.

 

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Proof positive there were no dust bunnies.

But, ever onward.

I was slightly appeased when we drove across town, found the road that led to the new resort and saw this on the corner.

 

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Ample tequila in walking distance is never a bad thing.

The Wyndham Kingsgate actually got higher reviews than the Powhatan we’d just left, so I was expecting something special.

On first glance?

 

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It looked like a school.

 

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And their pond was totally goose-less.

Strike one.

 

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The closest thing they had to a Manor House was the activities center which consisted of a few pools, a gym, and numerous video game machines.

Strike two.

 

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The buildings were much closer together with more units per building and though it was empty in this picture…. the parking lots were filled to capacity the whole time we were there and didn’t have reserved spots. We circled and hunted for a place every damned night.

Strike three and we hadn’t even been inside yet.

 

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Thankfully the 2 bedroom/2 bath unit was pleasant…… albeit smaller than the first resort.

 

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But the furniture was nice quality….

 

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The kitchen well stocked….

 

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And though the balcony was the bare minimum….

 

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The king sized beds were comfortable.

 

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I did take issue with the fact the master bathroom was smaller was than the guest…..

 

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And while the shower was attractive it only had that one tiny shelf which barely fit a bar of soap. What’s a girl supposed to do with her shampoo, conditioner, bath gel, loofah, razor etc.?

Piss poor planning if you ask me.

 

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And while the guest bath was also attractive, there wasn’t a heck of a lot more room to move around.

 

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See?

There isn’t even an entire horse in the picture…. that’s small.

But we did get the second floor that my husband always has to have. Which Destiny was actively cursing when she offered to drag my suitcase up to it.

 

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I believe her grimace is in direct proportion to it’s weight.

 

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The girls relaxed while we put the food away…. and Gracie drew me something to put on the refrigerator.

 

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I was thinking something like this would be more appropriate….

 

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But yeah, whatever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colonial Williamsburg… Shield’s and Wetherburn’s Taverns

 

 

Now don’t get excited food people, these taverns were for touring not eating.

 

 

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Shield’s Tavern was closed, but had something the husband wanted to photograph.

 

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Men. I can’t explain them….

 

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But the gardens out back were lovely.

 

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And I enjoyed a stroll among the well tended shrubbery.

 

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I think Edward Scissorhands would approve.

 

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There were vegetable gardens…

 

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And wreaths…

 

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I even saw an old ball and chain gate closure.

 

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And then down the road, we found Wetherburn’s Tavern.

 

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Where we had a guide give us the history and a tour.

 

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Taverns back in the day were far different from what you might think. Rooms were rented for private parties, balls were held in the great rooms, owners lived behind the kitchen and the upstairs served as a hotel.

 

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Which rooms you rented depended on your social standing.

 

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Up to 12 men bunked in here.

I like cozy, but not that cozy.

 

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Middle class families might sleep 8 in this room.

 

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A private room? You had serious money.

 

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Business deals were struck and government policies were made in rooms like these.

 

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While the tavern keepers cranked out the meals in here….

 

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That’s one high tech rotisserie right there.

 

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Many taverns had their own smokehouses and livestock.

 

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Which prompted a 30 minute conversation from my husband about being raised on a dairy farm.

 

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An appropriate wreath was decorating their door as well.

 

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We may not have seen any beer…. but it was still a tavern.