Tag Archives: pool

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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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The (not so) free pool table finally sees some use.

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So the free pool table… the one that has cost us approximately $14,000 ( and counting ) in storage barn to man cave renovations… actually saw some action last weekend.

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Two of the husband’s coworkers came by for the afternoon (no worries, all 3 men are fully vaccinated) for Cajun gumbo, beer and pool. I don’t play, so I know my other half was happy. And me? I was happy because I received another bar christening gift.

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I’d never even heard of this whiskey but it turned out to have a pleasing toasted undertone.

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After two games of pool, it was determined the table needed to go from horizontal placement to vertical to allow more shooting space.

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Which then required multiple leveling maneuvers. Turns out the barn floor is not at all level. Shocking, I know.

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Play continued into the night, as did the whiskey drinking and strange reflections from the overhead lighting.

A good time was had by all… and let me tell you, it was nice to host even two people after a year of no socializing with friends.

😊

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The March squirrel.

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It’s March first…. and that means it’s time for a new calendar squirrel.

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This month we see the little red devil has loaded up the kids and taken to the road.

Let it be known – I will gladly purchase a Barbie recreational vehicle if our furry red rodent from Hell will hit the highway. Heck, I’ll fill the damn thing with nuts if that’s what it takes for her to vacate the premises.

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Look, it even has a pool. Maybe I’ll get lucky and the little bitch will drown.

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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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