Tag Archives: man cave

Let there be light….


Bright and early Sunday morning the husband and his friend were hard at it.

Removing the stuffing they’d previously stuffed and drilling holes for the continuous feed wires to slip through.



This, as you can imagine…. was a royal pain in the  *ss.




But finally,  it was ready for a light fixture.

And my husband used the pool table as an auxiliary ladder.






A light fixture.




Which receives the husband’s very technical and OSHA approved tug test.

Just kidding, OSHA reps run screaming in horror from any project my husband oversees.

More stuffing, more plywood.



Light fixture number two was not at all cooperative, and adjustments I don’t even want to contemplate were made.

This might be a good time to mention the time my husband installed a ceiling fan in our living room in North Carolina.

It took an electrician 2 hours to undo that mess.



But after an hour of tinkering, and some oh so colorful language…

Fixture two was up.



Were the proper amount of decorative screws used?  They were not.

Was it in perfect alignment with the first light fixture?  It was not.



But since this simple job took them over 5 hours?

I doubt they cared.


  • For informational purposes only – the husband can not decide whether he wants to put ceiling fans in between the lights or just another light, hence the open middle space.

Because free is never really free.


Remember the free pool table my husband came home with a while back?




Well… it turns out the damn thing is going to cost us a fortune.


Because now that he has a pool table, he wants to build a bar. And while I’ve never been a woman to argue with bars, if he builds the bar he wants to heat and cool the space… which means he had a guy  (the son of the  soon to be ex  friends who gifted us the pool table, which can’t be a coincidence)  come over and give us an estimate for a heat pump unit.

Ka-ching!  That free pool table is going to cost us $4,000.

But that’s not all.

If he heats and cools the space it has to be air tight. And while he did put insulation under the floor and behind his pretty walls….

It’s a barn! It’s nowhere near air tight.




Construction of a frame to seal air leaks in the big doors began.



Foam boards were purchased and cut.  (with – it’s a miracle! –  a 21rst century tool)



But my idea of an easily removable frame was thrown out like baby’s dirty bath water.



And to my horror….



This monstrosity emerged.



A screwed in framework with double sided attached foam boards.



And plywood covering.



This sucker isn’t going anywhere.



When I lamented the decided un-movability of this air leak blocking structure, he told me it would only take a few minutes to undo if we needed to open the doors.

Considering it took him a day and half to put together, I highly doubt the veracity of this statement.

And if you think the sound of the cash register ringing is finished?

Au contraire mes amis, it’s just begun.

The heat pump contractor told him in order for all the heat to stay downstairs, the ceiling would have to be insulated as well.

This is the ceiling.



It’s a lot of ceiling.



And this stuff is $55 a bag.




KA- fuckin’-CHING!

And I haven’t even talked about how he’s going to have to block off the opening to the second floor yet.


It’s a relative term.

It’s a miracle… albeit a small one.


By now I think you’re all familiar with the giant barn we built a few years ago.


IMG_0158 (Edited)


The husband had visions of a man cave complete with bar, pool table and plenty of space to display his  totally useless crap  treasures.

What he got was a little different.




This is what happens when you’re a hoarder in training. You have a more than ample 2 story space and you fill it with random  rubbish, recycled debris  stuff.

So the other day when the husband asked me if I would help him clear some of it out?



I admit I was a trifle excited.




The future yard sale pile grew larger.

But don’t faint…. it’s mostly my things, with some items a friend left in his basement for the husband when he moved to Oklahoma. Yes, that’s the $800 scooter we bought on Craig’s List for the husband’s brother who said he wanted it but didn’t like it and never used it. My eyes did some serious rolling that day let me tell you.




There was a lot of heavy lifting involved as none of the husband’s  rusty crap  treasures are light.

What… you don’t have an adjustable height potato planter that weighs as much as a medium sized water buffalo?

Why ever not.





Of course he wanted most of these items upstairs.




See that?

It’s a hay bale fork with a pulley system for the hay bales we’ll never have or be required to move. And guess what? When you drop it on your toe while climbing the stairs….

You curse it.

Quite colorfully as it turns out.




As we spent the next few hours moving and sweeping and organizing…  ( okay, that was me and it was pretty fruitless because the husband refused to put anything in the trash pile, even this collection of tires that don’t fit any vehicle we own )  I realized my miracle clean out was really just a ‘move things around so you can see the floor again’ type of miracle. But hey, I’ll take what I can get.

Before  –




After –






Part of it anyway.




I wish I could make him understand how wonderful a space this could be if he would just part with all the junk. And I don’t mean everything….. mixed in with all the why the hell did you buy that! stuff are some legitimately interesting things.




This old butter table is sweet.




And I do love the old apple press.

Otis the Opsrey is waiting patiently to be installed on the roof as well.




Though that baby is all mine and cost me a pretty penny.

But the ridiculous things he picks up and brings home because they’re free?




They’ve got to go.