Tag Archives: pool

Mount Washington resort.. the finale.

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As we were winding up our tour of the resort we wandered into the conference center….

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Which was just as attractive as the rest of the resort though in a newer building addition. There were multiple meeting rooms of which I’ll spare you the details…

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But we did find a plethora of fascinating old maps.

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And since I included the word old in that description, you know who enjoyed them the most.

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Random grand piano…. because you never know when the Brotherhood of Orthopedic Shoe Manufacturers will feel the need to break into song.

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The indoor pool required a paying guests only entry card so here’s a shot of it through a window. I thought it was very nice they had a handicap lift machine.

If I haven’t mentioned it before, this hotel was built in 1902. And though they do an amazing job of upkeep, the old broad is beginning to show her age and needs some serious restoration in spots.

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Underneath decades of crisp clean white paint? Rotted wood.

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And a side porch rotunda that’s undergoing some major repairs.

They try to keep as much of the original structure as possible which I’m sure is an engineering nightmare.

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So there you have it, The Mount Washington resort. An area landmark that shouldn’t be missed.

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Schooled!

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The weekly pool game saw team play again today.

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And after spending four hours this morning cooking lasagna, then serving it and the salad to the crew, I took a hard cider break before I ferried it all back in the house to do dishes.

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I sat, sipped and watched the mild mannered old widower school the group with a twinkle in his eye. Game after game, no matter who he teamed with, it was a rout.

And no amount of freshly tapped beer helped.

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The other three couldn’t seem to get out of their own way.

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So much thinking.

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The husband has a standing Sunday afternoon pool game with the little old man up the road. He’s a widower my other half met years ago at breakfast, and as soon as we remodeled the barn into a man cave… the weekly game commenced.

Last week a few other friends showed up and team play got underway. There was a lot of laughing.

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And a great deal of thinking.

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It seems like every time I went out to refresh the snacks, there was one shot taken…

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And then more thinking.

So much thinking…

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More often than not, the mild mannered 85 year old widower cleaned the table while the rest of the men continued thinking.

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He may be small, but every little bone in is body is competitive.

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No matter. Beer, chili and cornbread are great equalizers.

😉

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Meanwhile at Casa River….

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Now that the husband has a fancy new pool table, he’s finally taken on the monumental task of teaching me how to play.

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So far? I suck. And it seems my underlying strategy is to keep all my balls on the table in order to block his access to the pockets.

Not for everyone, I know. But it’s all I’ve got right now.

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Outside? There are some pretty spectacular sunsets.

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And a very well staked Christmas reindeer who may be there until spring.

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Inside?

Lord Dudley Mountcatten is unsuccessfully hiding behind a coffee table leg.

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A Covid Christmas, seven months later.

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Now that the stage is set (see yesterday’s post) let’s check out the guests and festivities.

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Santa made numerous appearances.

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And I shared another version of my mankini Santa with this young man who was brave enough to wear it.

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Wine flowed freely.

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Though some guests didn’t approve of our edible flower embellishments.

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This young lady landed herself a new beau. Pre Med and good looking… her father approves. 👍

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Drinks were consumed on the deck, and goat entertainment was enjoyed.

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Eventually the party moved to the pool area.

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And food was enjoyed among Christmas trees and lobster pool floaties.

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Extra food was turned into art.

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(Art being in the eye of the beholder and better appreciated when you’ve been drinking all afternoon.)

To be continued…

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Let me give you the lay of the land….

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We drove a little over an hour west to reach our friend’s house for the Christmas in July party I mentioned last week. And when we left our town, the weather was not cooperating.

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Thankfully it was drier in her neck of the woods and let me tell you, the property she recently purchased definitely qualifies as out of the way.

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After a long ride on a bumpy dirt road, her place came into view.

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As you can see, her main reason for buying this place was ample room for horses.

The house is a bit odd. It looks large, but isn’t…. with a surprisingly small kitchen and bedrooms.

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Numerous outbuildings are scattered around, as are decks and staircases.

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One of which….

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Lead to goats. Boots, Buckles and Gypsy to be precise.

Did I mention there’s a pool?

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To be continued…

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Damn her!

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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:

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

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

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I had to watch those succulent creatures being disbanded…

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

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

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Oh, the horror!

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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.

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Good thing the tool box was close by.

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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?

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

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Hell, I tell you.

It was Hell.

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This shouldn’t be so difficult.

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Forget toilet paper and gas shortages, the really rare items these days are clearly pool tables.

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As I mentioned in a previous post, the husband wants to replace our gifted (read free) inferior table with something bigger, better and more stylish.

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The problem is, in the entire state of Maine? I can only find 3 stores that sell what we’re looking for and none of them have inventory. They all told us to look online, find what we wanted and then come back to place an order.

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While we’ve narrowed it down to the classic style with tapered legs and leather ball baskets, choosing a table online means not being able to feel the quality or take it for a test drive. Heck, they all look good in the pictures…. which is why my husband has had me scouring Craig’s List and Facebook marketplace. We’ve checked out quite a few used tables and none of them have been worthy. Until I found this beauty.

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We drove an hour and a half to see it. The husband took it for a test drive.

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It was custom made in Maine of solid oak, lovingly cared for and best of all? Cheap! Husband wanted to change the felt color, but liked the table and was ready to fork over payment then and there…. but I suggested we check what it would cost to have the table professionally moved and set up in the Barn Mahal first…. and that’s when the whole thing came crashing down. We got estimates from 4 different places and the lowest was… are you ready?

$1,950.

To. Move. A. Table.

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I understand it has to be disassembled and reassembled, but damn Sam. Why on earth would I pay $900 for a used table, twice that to move it and probably another $500+ to change the felt…for a total of $3,350… when I can buy a brand new table, including delivery, set up, choice of style, wood finish and felt color, plus a set of pro balls for $3,500?

I wouldn’t. So I guess we’ll be shopping online and hoping for the best.

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Unrelated drivel.

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Can someone please explain what frog logs taste like…

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And why anyone would want to find out?

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This completely cracked me up, because it’s true. I’ve waged war with that cursed masher for years.

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Charming… or ridiculous?

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I’m going with the latter.

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The Sunday senior pool games are still going strong. And this little old man is so sweet I’ve started baking goodies.

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Because nothing says hard core pool tournament better than fresh banana bread.

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Man cave pool tournament… the senior division.

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My husband went to breakfast last weekend and met up with his old cronies for the first time in almost a year. They’re a group of men who commandeer a large table at our local restaurant, drink endless cups of coffee and solve the world’s problems. Since he hadn’t seen them in a while, the husband filled them in on our storage barn to man cave transformation. When he got to the part about the pool table, an 85 year old gentleman said he loved to play…. so naturally he received an invitation.

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Husband won the first game and I’m sure he was thinking he should take it easy on the older man.

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Which was about the time this delightful senior citizen began to whip my beloved’s ass.

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85? Maybe so. But he had no problem running the table for the next three games.

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The fifth found my husband in a pickle. Because that sly senior plays a good defensive game as well.

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The husband had stripes.

🤣

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