Tag Archives: man cave

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Back in the Barn Mahal…

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It was recently brought to my attention that our barn was in need of comfortable seating in which to kick back after a vigorous session of drinking. And to that I say…

I’m way ahead of you.

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Okay, so it’s actually just the porch furniture we store inside every winter… but I’m thinking come spring, when it heads back outside? Two leather club chairs with a small table in between.

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Husband hung a few appropriate signs behind the (soon to be bar) the other day.

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Armpit lemon? Remind me not to over indulge in Puerto Rico.

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A  no sewing required  spot was found for the husband’s assorted patches.

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And a few more photos were carefully hung… while standing on a safe.

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As you can see, I have arrived … and finally been given representation in the man cave.

Yay me.

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A magnetic bottle opener was installed on the staircase.

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And a recent antique store purchase was displayed.

It’s time for Name That Crap!

What is it?

(Kerry, you be quiet. 😉)

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Barn (and bar!) news.

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Continuing in the if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em paradigm, I gifted the husband some nice new pool sticks.

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Canadian maple of various colors and weights.

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I also gathered some of the military patches he’s had stuck in his drawer for years.

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I’m trying to think of some way to display them… you know, a way that doesn’t involve sewing. Because my love only goes so far.

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A few man cave appropriate books were dropped on the table…. and then –

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Our bar building contractor showed up with the top of the bar.

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I have to admit I was liking the 3 different shades of wood colors….

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Until I realized that was the unfinished side. But after it was sanded down and smoothed, even the husband agreed it would need to be stained before the polyurethane.

Victory is mine!

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And that called for a drink. Or a cocktail in a pretty can as the case may be.

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Random winter scenes.

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One of these things is not like the others.

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Which makes me wonder what that poor bird did to be ostracized.

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And speaking of wild turkeys, did you know they make excellent snow shovelers?

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We cleared the path but they’re enlarging the dining room.

And speaking of paths…

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Now that the man cave is being readied, more shoveling is required after every storm.

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Welcome… one and all.

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Aside from the wreaths on our home’s windows, this was the extent of my lackluster Christmas decorating this year.

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Snowflakes lights in the Barn Mahal. Battery powered and on a timer.

Ho! Ho! Hum…

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And while Christmas will feel a lot different this year, there are some things to look forward to.

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I should have known this was coming.

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The Barn Mahal is the gift that keeps on giving. It grows. It changes. It morphs into something I no longer recognize as a barn.

Why do I say this?

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Because last week my husband took me shopping for the next addition to his man cave extraordinaire.

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Yes.

He wants a refrigerator.

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And because he’s a man who demands instant gratification, he wanted to go home with it that day… which we quickly discovered was impossible. Thank you Covid 19…. yet another reason you suck.

All the refrigerators pictured on this blog, every last one of the small barn appropriate models that were on the display floor?

Unavailable.

It was enough to send us to our local pub for a drink… or two, and lunch.

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Which for me was a massive fried haddock sandwich with homemade onion rings. For the husband?

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A tool box and the light filtering blind we bought for the window we always sit in front of. The sun shines through it something fierce and we were tired of our bartender talking to us with his hand over his eyes.

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For this kindness we refused payment… support your local businesses!…but received 4 free drinks when the bill was presented.

A win win.

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And then it was back to the elusive we’ll show it to you but you can’t have it, neener neener refrigerator shopping.

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The absolutely only one anyone had in stock was this small, wonderfully inexpensive model.

The husband vetoed that. Not enough room for beer.

So we spent a fruitless day, visited 7 stores and ended up coming home to order this one online.

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Ample beer storage will be had…

But not for a week or two.

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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.

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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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Why does he make everything twice as difficult as it has to be?

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We have a barn that really isn’t a barn. What started out as storage space for motorcycles and lawn mowers has morphed into a custom built man cave… and now that the man cave has a heat pump? The upstairs has to be temporarily blocked off for winter before the staircase turns into a chimney.

This should have been a simple project.

I told the husband – cut a piece of insulation foam. The heat pump installer told the husband – cut a piece of insulation foam. The friend that helps him now and then told the husband – cut a piece of insulation foam.

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Which is why the husband made a hinged door out of zip siding.

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Did I mention the husband doesn’t like to be told what to do?

After a laborious day of cursing and figuring and adjusting and fitting and more cursing….

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The husband came home to cut a piece of insulation foam.

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Which he wanted to attach to that hinged door of zip siding.

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This involved more measuring and cutting ..

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And fitting and pushing and removing and more measuring and cutting.

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Please note the non OSHA approved chunk of wood dismantling the saw’s safety feature.

More fitting.

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More measuring and cutting.

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More fitting.

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Halfway through the process, Mike Pence stopped by to say hello.

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And finally after I helped him measure, cut and fit for 3 hours to no avail… I snuck out.

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For the sake of my sanity…. as well as our marriage.

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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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Let there be light….

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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.

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

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But finally,  it was ready for a light fixture.

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

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Viola.

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A light fixture.

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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.

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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.

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

Fixture two was up.

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

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

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But since this simple job took them over 5 hours?

I doubt they cared.

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  • 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.