Tag Archives: man cave

It’s all in the wrist.

.

Well, not really… but it seemed like a better title than ‘Glass Full of Foam’.

.

.

Yes, we let the keg sit still overnight. And yes, we had the kegerator set to the proper temperature… but we were still getting full glasses of foam. The only thing left to do was adjust the CO2 flow, you know…. the thing I kept telling my husband we had to do even though he said we absolutely positively didn’t have to.

So I did what any self respecting beer drinker would do…. I sent him to the house on an errand, then made the adjustment myself.

Viola!

.

.

The perfect glass of beer. ( And yes, the placement of my “At Last” prohibition glass from the FDR museum in Hyde Park was most definitely on purpose )

Did you know fruit flies are attracted to beer taps? I didn’t either, but who can blame them.

.

.

The solution? Plug the tap when not in use. And if you want to put your womanly mark on the man cave? Do it with a pink wine bottle stopper.

.

.

That way it will match the pink bell and pink cocktail napkins already on the bar.

🤣

Next up was the shorty tap handle I ordered from Allagash.

.

.

I’ve been told I can pick something for myself for the second keg. Hmm…

My favorite amber ale? That luscious chocolate cherry sour? Or maybe a nice hard cider?

Decisions, decisions.

.

Because things never go smoothly around here.

.

Not wanting to kill each so late in the day, we saved assembly of the kegerator until Saturday morning. Relaxing weekend my *ss. 🥴

.

.

The first step on the way to cold beer was finding a place to fill the (brand new and shiny apple red!) CO2 tank required for tapping a keg. Had I known it would not be coming back home with us, I would have taken its picture. So clean and pretty! But alas in our part of the world no one fills CO2 tanks, they just exchange them. So bye bye lovely sparkling new red tank, and hello old, scuffed, ugly metal version.

.

.

The regulator was easy to attach, and the husband managed to do it without blowing himself up … so I call that a win.

Next up was clamping the hoses to the keg couplers. They came with 4 of these ridiculous plastic things….

.

.

Only one of which worked.

.

.

Husband promptly broke the other 3 then stormed off to the local hardware store for the normal adjustable metal versions.

.

.

Tank and regulator placed on shelf? Check!

Hoses clamped onto couplers and attached to tank? Check!

All that was left was to tap the keg…. and since the husband hadn’t done that anytime in the current century?

It did not go well.

.

.

But can I get a round of applause for the perfectly timed photograph?

I’m so good…. it’s frightening.

.

.

Beer went everywhere. On the floor, on the window, on the mini fridge, everywhere but in our mouths… which is usually where you want to direct it.

And then, when the keg was finally put in position and tapped?

.

.

Pure foam.

😬

To be continued….

.

It’s finally here!

.

Yes, after ordering one in January, receiving it in February, sending it back due to damage in March, waiting for a refund until May, ordering another one in June….

.

.

In August… we finally (why the hell was that was so hard?) have a kegorator!!!

Naturally, with my husband at the helm…. delivery to the man cave did not go smoothly.

.

.

Drive much? And yes, it was my car he used to ram into the garden bed bricks. Geesh!

.

.

Numerous pieces and parts accompanied the unit.

.

.

Which barely fit in between the bar and my (heavily loaded because yes, a girl needs variety) booze laden shelves.

.

.

But there she is… in place, a dual tapper!

.

.

Of course we had to rush right out and purchase a keg of the husband’s favorite Belgian. (Heavier than it looks. Damn!)

.

.

Allagash White, from a local Maine brewery.

.

.

And then came the holy shit we might need an engineer dreaded assembly instructions.

To be continued….

.

Damn her!

.

Last weekend we invited the husband’s 4 sisters who live in Maine to a barbecue/pool tournament/behold the majesty of the Barn Mahal man cave/ party. It was a good time… except for one dastardly deed. You see one of his sisters brought this:

.

.

After I specifically said we were grilling filet mignon… she had the audacity to contribute to the feast.

.

.

A dozen lobsters, fresh from the ocean that morning. Damn her rotten black soul!

.

.

I had to watch those succulent creatures being disbanded…

.

.

Dropped in the pot…. ( Only 2 inches of water please. We steam, not boil )

.

.

Covered with a lid ( And a brick. They tend to buck when dying. Hell, wouldn’t you? )

.

.

Oh, the horror!

.

.

The horror of watching everyone tuck into the delightful crustaceans I can no longer eat.

It was Hell. Pure, unadulterated Hell.

😫😫😫

The only pleasure I took was not being able to find our crackers and picks. Substitutions had to be made.

.

.

Good thing the tool box was close by.

.

.

The husband was schooled at the pool table by two of his sisters, which I thought was fitting punishment for consuming and enjoying lobster in front of his now allergic wife.

But once the party was over, the mess cleaned up and everyone went home… what was almost worse than watching everyone eat them?

.

.

Seeing the two leftover red beauties every time I opened the fridge the next day and knowing I couldn’t make a lobster roll.

.

.

Hell, I tell you.

It was Hell.

.

I told you I would.

.

Because no man cave bar is complete without one.

.

.

Yes, I bought the screaming goat.

.

.

And as thrilling as that was, I admit to being a tad disappointed in his miniature stature.

.

.

Here, let me save you the trouble.

.

.

.

Annoying friends is a super power I already possess, but whatever.

.

.

Ten reasons? I bought a screaming goat! Why wouldn’t I press the button.

.

.

Alrighty then. Behold the majesty….

.

.

Admit it, you’re jealous and want one of your very own. But wait, there’s more.

.

.

So tell me, is anyone interested in taking the goat quiz?

.

Remember the free pool table?

.

You know, the one our friends gave us that inspired my husband to spend untold thousands in converting his storage barn to a man cave extraordinaire? Well guess what…. the husband has decided the free table isn’t good enough now and has been shopping for a new one.

.

.

Have you ever shopped for a pool table during a global pandemic that forced everyone to stay home? If not, I don’t recommend it. Maybe it’s just Maine, but up here decent pool tables are hard to find. After exhaustive research ( that would be me, you know he wouldn’t take the time ) and a few disappointing viewings from Craig’s List ( ‘oh yes, the table is nearly new and in perfect condition’ they say… standing over a tilted, dented wreck with ripped felt ) we found a store with two ( yes, that’s all ) tables for sale.

.

.

Did I mention it was a very high class place? I deduced this by the dogs playing poker plastic sculpture that took center stage.

.

.

Swanky pool cue holders were available as well.

.

.

Husband tried this table but it got a no vote from me. If we’re going with better… I want better, not seedy pool hall decor.

.

.

This had a little more style, but the wrong color felt. Turquoise may be hot right now but we prefer the old fashioned green.

.

.

The tables can be ordered and customized with any wood finish as well.

.

.

Out the door, delivered and professionally set up for $3,500. Please note this is a far cry from free…. but not as much as the Brunswick or Olhausen brands. Those babies go for $8,000 – $10,000.

* gulp *

The search continues.

.

And on the 7th day…. River said thou feet shall be rested.

.

After all the hassle we had with the Barn Mahal’s leather club chairs, the addition of a matching ottoman was almost too easy.

.

.

Of course I told the husband I was ordering it online and having it delivered. No discussion necessary…. or allowed for that matter.

.

.

Two nice young men carried it to the barn, put the legs on and said they would leave me a few extra scratch guards.

.

.

Yup. That’s definitely a few…

.

The eagle has landed.

.

Our neighbor, she of the new stained glass hobby, invited us down to her house to take a look at her work. Not being one to arrive empty handed I brought this….

.

.

A bottle of wine from one of our trips. I planned to ply her with alcohol and drive the price of the eagle I had my eye on down.

.

.

The picture she’d sent me made the piece look quite large… and though in reality it wasn’t, it still turned out to be a nice addition to the man cave.

.

.

On the table with my husband’s challenge coin collection.

.

.

Below the WWII propaganda posters.

.

.

Proudly guarding our bar. (And yes, I got the 20% friends and family discount.)

.

A good old fashioned shopping trip.

.

Being fully vaccinated, I’m starting to feel safer venturing out with a friend for some long over due retail therapy. First stop? A nursery.

.

.

Because as I’ve said previously, you can never have too many flowers.

Second stop? Goodwill… where I saw this.

.

.

Although I had no idea what it was. At first I thought it was a cat with big tatas wearing a cape and waving. Then I figured out it was a cape wearing kangaroo with boxing gloves and an open pouch. The question is… why does such a thing exist?

.

.

We visited a gift store with strange mossy things…

.

.

But I did like the upside down air plant stuck inside a dried urchin.

.

.

And if you ever want a suede comforter with barbed wire?

.

.

Complete with turquoise stars and fringed pillow shams? I can totally hook you up. ( Although I won’t be spending the night in your guest room. Uh uh. Nope. )

I had to laugh at the rainbow coalition of Crocs.

.

.

Does anyone even wear those monstrosities anymore?

.

.

And finally, this was the one that got away. I’m filled with regret for not scooping that little gem up when I saw it. Ice cubes in 8 minutes? I totally should have bought that for our man cave bar.

😩

.

Let there be (no) light.

.

Next up in the man cave? Blinds. Which were really fun to shop for considering all the windows are different sizes and thanks to my do it yourself I’m too cheap to pay a carpenter to do the finish work husband.

.

.

The price of custom blinds that would have fit perfectly was ridiculous.

.

.

That window, the smallest ( not to mention crookedest ) was quoted at $310. For one blind! I bought all 6 of these light filtering cellular linen shades for $272. That’s a no brainer.

.

.

Working his way around the room, I followed and tried my hardest to get right in his way.

.

.

At least that’s what he’d tell you. I prefer to think of it as active assistance.

.

.

Which is why I was banished to the other side of the room…. where I sat quietly and read a few blogs.

.

.

But when it came to the final window behind the bar I had to speak up.

.

.

Because after he installed this one, which had the best fit… only 3/8ths of an inch off… he plopped his big bullet back on the sill.

( I know it’s a round and not a bullet, I just say that to get a rise out of my husband. Did it aggravate you as well? Then yay for me. . )

.

.

The problem? The blind won’t go all the way down because the bullet is too fat.

.

.

When I told him this was unacceptable (the main reason for putting up blinds in the first place was to keep the sun from fading the bar) and suggested alternate placements for the big bullet, he forbade me to move it ( as if I could, it’s live and weighs a ton and a half ). When I stressed the need for it’s relocation due to the sun baking on the glass door of the mini fridge causing it to work harder, he told me he’d “think about it”. FFS, what is there to think about? Bullet too big, blind doesn’t close, move big bullet. It isn’t rocket science.

.

.