Tag Archives: tools

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When you don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

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I went downstairs to check the progress of the husband’s basement project yesterday and it was not going well.

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Nope. Not well at all.

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I stood unnoticed, chortling while I watched him attempt to wrangle trifold insulation into a corner by himself. It was quite amusing, but I took pity on the poor guy after a few minutes and lent a hand.

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You’ll notice he bought a new toy. After the first low velocity hammer tool wasn’t strong enough.. he upgraded.

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This thing is basically a small gun that fires explosive rounds to propel nails into hard surfaces. In this case, concrete.

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And while my husband is (we never say was) a Marine and familiar with weapons, his usage of this tool made me a little nervous.

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The video doesn’t do justice to the noise. But trust me, that thing is loud.

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And best observed from a safe distance.

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I have to laugh that our entire cellar is a junk filled mess except for this one little corner. But he’s determined to put a ceiling, insulation and shelves throughout so I’m not complaining.

Much. Or within earshot….

😉

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When you have a man cave instead of a workshop.

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The last vintage beer crate we found had one issue…

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Wooden bottle separators that would have to be removed in order to house my vinyl. This was not simply a matter of pulling and popping them out. They were old, warped, and not in any hurry to go.

Ergo… it required tools.

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And since my husband turned his barn and workshop into a man cave …. this meant doing surgery in the living room.

Lord Dudley Mountcatten did not approve.

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After the first twenty minutes the husband was grumbling.

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After the second twenty minutes he was sputtering.

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But when the clock struck a solid hour of remodeling?

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One empty crate ready for part of my record collection.

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Although judging from the price of an old can of that beer … I think I’d rather have it filled with those.

😳

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Random thoughts and a little something for the Huntress.

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I’ve been thinking of gathering up my vinyl and moving the collection out to the man cave. Back in the day I had over a thousand. But in between moving houses in the 90’s, I stored 2/3’s of them in my MIL’s attic. Big mistake. Huge! When I went back to retrieve them a few months later, they were gone. All of them. Poof! Disappeared. When I cried foul and said what the hell, his mother denied I had ever left them there… which means she gave, or worse sold them to someone. I learned my lesson and never left anything there again, but it hurt. Decades of music and memories, gone.

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I’m not that grey, but yeah… that could be me. So now I haunt antique stores and flea markets looking to replace all the albums I lost.

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And speaking of salad dressing, (worst segue ever) have you tried this yet? I’m not a big vinaigrette fan because I generally hate vinegar… but this is fabulous. If you see it, give it a go.

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Seeing the announcement for these awards made my mind go to all the “tools” in politics these days. They’re much more deserving of being called the biggest tool than any screwdriver or drill bit I’ve ever seen.

This final picture is for The Huntress who will be starting a new job soon. I saw the pins and immediately thought of her.

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Please try not to stab anyone on your first day.

😉

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New/old treasures.

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A few new old things have been added to the man cave of late.

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A primitive sled, which I thought was for children.. but turned out to be for hauling split wood from the shed to the house back in the day. And no, it didn’t stay in that position….

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It’s precariously propped up in the corner behind the chairs.

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A pump action vacuum cleaner. And as a modern woman of today, let me tell you… it ain’t no Roomba.

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A few more Name that Crap! tools have made their way to the table of antique horrors.

So if you ever need to draw information from a recalcitrant friend or loved one… let me know.

😈

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Goodwill horrors.

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Thrift store shopping is always an adventure. And while it’s true you have to sort through a lot of trash, sometimes you find a treasure. My girlfriend and I used to make monthly pilgrimages to various shops and believe me when I say we have found some seriously odd things. So when I came across this article about the strange things Goodwill employees find, I knew I had to share.

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A suitcase full of dildos? Well, I suppose you could repurpose them like this woman did.

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Yikes. I don’t imagine the kangaroo was too happy about that.

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Damn. I wondered why I couldn’t find mine.

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Is it me? Or are you noticing the distinct trend toward the penile at Goodwill..

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They’re probably right. But it wouldn’t have been me.

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Things I may have to buy.

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I saw a list of things you should buy your significant other to show how much you love them yesterday. And while none of these products fit that bill…. they did make me chuckle at the thought of owning them and putting them in the barn bar.

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Come on, you know that will come in handy someday.

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Bar mascot? It could be.

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Maybe if I get the husband one of these he can practice on pizza for his next remodel project. Eating those mistakes will be a lot more enjoyable than staring at his construction errors for the next 20 years.

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Who is this man and what have you done with my husband?

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It’s beginning to feel like Invasion of the Body Snatchers up at Casa River.

There’s a pod here somewhere…. I know it.

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It’s the only possible explanation for why you can currently see the floor… and walls!…. of our garage.

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The look alike alien husband removed the rattle trap archaic blower which was here when we moved in.

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He even *gasp* hung things up. Look, little shelves with neatly coiled tie down straps! Be still my heart.

And then? Excuse me while I reach for my smelling salts… he took his prized 400 lb antique potato planter out of the big barn.

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He loaded it on his truck.

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And gave it to our town’s historical society!

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(I think I may have passed out at this point.)

And just when I was sure my husband had been replaced by an otherworldly facsimile…

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I found him back in the garage knee deep in this.

Delicate apparatus?

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Well, not quite.

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Box full of rusty old tools that haven’t worked since Christ was a Corporal?

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There he is!

Welcome back honey. I missed you…

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The rodent revolution can’t be far behind.

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I didn’t pray for this miracle, but I’ll take it.

Day two of the husband cleaning out the garage.

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Things were going well until he hit this corner…

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And found mouse nesting material covering whatever the hell was stored there.

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When he pulled off the filthy blanket?

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Yes. Those are corn cobs.

WTH?

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Sweeping off the pounds of nasty mess revealed this:

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Old, rusty and doesn’t work?

A keeper.

But the sweeping also revealed this:

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A tiny, squeaking baby mouse.

And when there’s a tiny, squeaking baby mouse?

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There’s a crazed mother mouse searching for it close behind.

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We spent the next half hour reuniting the little bastards, but the damage was done.

Their home had been destroyed…. like the chipmunks in the baby barn and the red squirrels in the house eaves.

Three rodent families displaced in the course of a summer.

I fear for our safety this winter.

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