The Making of a Man Cave

Last spring we moved into a beautiful condo.  While my husband loves that he does not have to mow the lawn on those hot summer days or shovel the snow when the bitter wind is blowing, he has found himself with more free time.

In our old home we had a beautiful hosta garden with over 200 hostas along with roses, lilies, cone flowers and so much more!  In our new home we do have room for a few flowers and he has enjoyed planting some this summer with plans for more come spring.  However, with the much smaller lawn we have it will never be enough to keep him busy.

 

Giving this free time he has returned to an earlier love – painting.  When he was younger he painted but always ended up giving his paintings to friends who expressed that they liked a particular one.  When I married him he told me about his earlier painting but he had nothing to show me.

I was pleasantly surprised when he began painting again.  In the small house we rented when we first downsized from our home before buying the condo there was little room for him to paint.  With the purchase of our condo I took over the second bedroom and filled it with my books, my music and my computer.  My poor husband still had no room to paint.

He decided to make himself a studio/painting room in our unfinished basement.  Hard at work on the room he has added his favorite “big” chair and a game table so it has become more than just a place to paint.  Every man needs a man cave and he now has one.  While he still has painting and trim work to do, he is almost ready for a game night with friends.

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Game table all ready for a game of checkers with friends

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He has his easy chair and a TV ready to hook up

What is great is that he now has plenty of work for not only painting but can also display some of his work.

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Painting table with a new canvas ready for his next project

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His creation series – I had a hard job getting a good shot of this – but it is based on Genesis 1 and 2

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Here’s a better picture of his Creation Series taken at a showing of his work at the local Clinton County Art Gallery

He also loves maps and has some terrific antique maps of London and Paris that he had no where to display.  Now he can put them up on the walls of his studio/mancave and enjoy.

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I was feeling a little guilty taking the extra room for my space, so now I can better enjoy my area knowing my husband has a space all his own to enjoy.

One of the reasons we bought the condo was to get everything on one floor for me.  I had a knee replacement that did not go well and arthritis in the other knee so stairs are difficult for me.   With this new space I think I may be going up and down stairs again.  As he has completed steps in this decorating I have been called to check it out.  Putting up paneling, painting the floor, putting down rugs, putting up lights – all have required my inspection.  Now he is talking about me coming down stairs to sit in his easy chair and read or blog while he paints.

I have to remind him it is a “man-cave” and women are not allowed.  🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

800 Games and Still Counting

If you follow my blog you know my husband and I are avid Scrabble players.  Very competitive, we started keeping a record of the scores of our games in 2008.  We laugh that we are actually addicted to the game.

My Addiction has Returned

Thankfully we are evenly matched.  It would be no fun if one of us was much better than the other.  We go back and forth on winning the games.  Usually we are never more than one or two games apart.  A few years ago my husband actually pushed way ahead of me with a seven game lead.  I was so discouraged as I did not know how I would ever catch up with him again.  (Do you think losing too many games of Scrabble to your husband would be good grounds for a divorce?)

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Some of our kids bought us a Super Scrabble board a few years ago.  The board has more squares to play on and twice the number of letter tiles as the regular Scrabble game.  We have used it so much that it is falling apart.  We have it taped together but have agreed for our Christmas gift we will purchase a new one next month.  We also need a good Scrabble dictionary as our present one is falling apart.

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This week we played our 800th game.  After eleven years that is roughly 73 games a year or 6 games a month.  Since I did not retire until 2013 we are actually playing more games each month now.  Winter finds us playing more games as we hate going out in the snow and cold.  Summer finds us making road trips so the games take a back seat for a few weeks.

When we played that 800th game I was two games ahead of my husband and he was really hoping to win the game.  I beat him and that put me three games ahead for the eleven years we have kept score.

He threatened to never play again.  But he was only joking as I often whine when I get behind more than two games that I do not want to play any more.

In the 800 games played we have actually tied three games.  When I told one friend of how close our games are she felt one of us was just being nice and letting the other one win to keep our scores close.  However, she clearly does not know us.  We are very competitive and would never willingly let the other one win.

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I am thankful that my husband and I share this common love.  Along with giving us hours of enjoyment, we figure at our age (71 and 79) it may very well help keep our minds sharp.  When we get to 1000 games we are going to have a party! (If we continue at this pace, that means we will be 74 and 82.  Who wants to bet me we will still be going strong in three years?)

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Do you and your family play board games?

What games do you like?

Are you addicted to any games?

Are you a good loser?  Good winner?

 

 

Random Thoughts to Stay Awake

My youngest granddaughter spent Saturday night with us while Mom and Dad celebrated their anniversary.

She always seems to have a hard time going to sleep.  I’m not sure if her brain will just not shut down so she can sleep or if she keeps her brain going to avoid sleep.

After reading books and singing songs, I thought she would settle down.  NOT!

Every time I thought she was finally asleep she would sit up and ask some random question or make some random comment.

Such as:

Grandma, wake me up at 7 AM.

Grandma, there is a green light under the bed.  (We have an adjustable bed and there is a tiny green light which it is on.)

Grandma, turn on the jiggle. (Our bed also has vibrations for the lumbar spine and she calls it the jiggle.

Grandma, do you know what is 9 x 9?

Grandma, I forgot to say good night to Willie. (Willie is a stuffed character we play with when she is here.)

But the one that really was surprising was:

Grandma, our house looks like Picasso painted it.  (What eight-year-old has even heard of Picasso and what did she mean by that?)

I tried just ignoring her at one point but that did not work out too well.

It was “Grandma, Grandma” with each time the little voice getting louder.  Then a gentle jab on my arm.  When she still got no response the jabs became stronger and finally a gentle tap on my head.

She finally snuggled up close to me and went to sleep.

Just having her snuggled up close to me and resting next to me for the rest of the night was more than payment enough for all the questions and jabs!

 

 

 

The Chautauqua Movement is Alive and Well Today

After a quick drive through Bay View Michigan where we discovered beautiful Victorian houses, we learned this community was part of the Chautauqua movement from the late 1800’s.  Although the movement slowly died out in the 1920’s this community has remained active from its founding in 1875.

Always interested in our country’s history I have done some research since coming home on the Chautauqua movement.

I found the word is an Iroquois word and means ““a bag tied in the middle” or “two moccasins tied together.”   This name apparently was given to the movement because the first such meeting took place near Chautauqua Lake in New York where the word described the shape of the lake.

Started by John Heyl Vincent and Lewis Miller in a Methodist camp meeting site, it was used as a summer school for Sunday School teachers.  Although it started in this religious setting, it was more than just religious teaching.

It quickly spread throughout the country and attracted families to enjoy educators, preachers, musicians, orchestras while also enjoying camping and other outdoor summer activities.

Politicians also enjoyed speaking at these gatherings.  The large crowds that attended these summer programs gave them a way to get their message out (before the days of television, Facebook and cable news).  One of the most famous of those politicians was William Jennings Bryan.  A Democrat who ran for president three times, Bryan was very adamant about the importance of making education available to all.  He found the Chautauqua Movement an excellent way to make educational, religious and cultural programs open to all.

Theodore Roosevelt called it “the most American thing in America.”

The movement began to die out as television and other modern entertainment venues grew in popularity.  However, today it is experiencing a come back.  The idea of lifelong learning has gained importance again and the desire for cultural experiences is returning.  There are existing Chautauqua communities throughout the USA.

The original Chautauqua is now a 750-acre education center in New York State.  During the nine-week summer season at the Chautauqua Institution, over 7,500 persons enjoy the all the programs which include the four pillars of the movement:  religion, recreation, arts and education.  Courses are offered in art, dance, theater, writing among many other psecial interests.

The one we found in Bay View is definitely one I want to visit next summer.  In addition to the beautiful homes and the programs they are offering, I look forward to enjoying the  sunsets on beautiful Little Traverse Bay just across the street.

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If you do not live near Michigan, check the map to find one of the many Chautauqua facilities and check it out.

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Once Upon a Time

A memory just popped up on my Facebook page where I shared a conversation I had with my granddaughter four years ago.  So funny!  Still brings a smile.

Zoe:  Grandma, tell me a story about Jesus.

Me:  When Jesus was a little boy.  (Quickly interrupted by Zoe.)

Zoe:  No, Grandma, say “Once upon a time.”

Remembering Grandma

Grandma Sechrest was the only grandparent I was close to, the only one that expressed love and an interest in me.  I also related more to her because she was a red head, like me.  All my life I was told that I looked like her side of the family – the Tates.   I never knew any of that side of the family.  I was told they were all “a bunch of Irish drunks.”  As I did research on my family history I discovered the Tates were not Irish but rather English.  So much for family legends.

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Grandma had a hard life, losing her husband while pregnant with her eleventh child.  He was shot by her oldest daughter’s husband, Wesley Smith.  I never was completely sure of the facts, but the two men had been arguing and Wesley had come into the yard at their house and shot Grandpa.  My father was only 14 at the time and I’m sure it caused a lot of emotional/mental damage.

Grandma was a big woman and pictures I have seen of her when she was younger indicate she was probably a big gal most of her adult life.  I have never seen a picture of her when she was young – but I always wondered what she looked like as a young girl.

She loved the fact that I also had red hair – the only grandchild that did.   As she grew older, she began to lose her eyesight to glaucoma.  When I came to visit, I  would stand in the doorway where the sun could shine on my red hair.  She also loved music and was proud that I played the piano.  I would always play the latest song I had learned on her old upright piano when we went to visit.

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She loved flowers and before she lost her eyesight her yard and house were full of flowers.  There was always a row of elephant ears planted along the house on both sides and in front.  As she began to lose her eyesight, she gave up the flowers in her yard, but she had flowers in her house until she was totally blind.  For awhile, my mother would come over and water the few plants she kept in the house even though she could not see them.  Just knowing they were there seemed to make her feel better.  It was a sad day when she finally had them take the last plants away.  My dad loved flowers too and I have often thought I get my love of flowers from them.

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When Grandpa was killed, all but two of her eleven kids were still at home and she raised them alone.  My dad and some of his brothers would often catch a train, ride to Iowa, Kansas or Nebraska to work in the wheat fields.   They would be gone for weeks on end and Grandma would have no idea where they were until they returned home after finishing the harvest.

When Grandma was in her 60’s she married a retired Southern Baptist minister, Rev. Green.  He and my Dad often spent hours arguing about “once saved, always saved.”

If Grandma got upset about something, she would begin patting her foot.  The more upset she got, the faster she patted her foot.  We grand-kids knew when Grandma was patting her foot very rapidly it might be a good time to go outside to play because she was about to speak her mind to our Dad or one of the other adults there.

It was at Grandma’s house that I saw television for the first time.  She bought a very tiny TV and I would love to watch it when we visited Grandma.  I thought she must be very rich since she could afford a TV.

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Grandma’s house always smelled of garlic and cabbage.  She loved cabbage and it seemed that she almost always had a pot of cabbage cooking on the stove.  As she began to lose her eyesight she had her salt/sugar and spices lined up on the shelf in order so that she could still find the right spice for what she was fixing.  She made great chicken and dumplings (which she taught my mother to make) and, of course, corn beef and cabbage.

As I am now a great grandmother myself I find myself thinking more and more of my childhood days.  My red hair, my love of flowers, my love of garlic and cabbage  –  Grandma lives on in me.

I wonder – what will my grandchildren remember about me when I am just a memory?  My prayer is that their memories will be good ones like mine.

We All Need Some Quiet Time

My small group at church is reading the Gospel of Luke this month.  Taking it slow, not rushing through but looking carefully at the stories Luke tells.

One thing I noticed as I read is how often Jesus took some quiet time away from the crowd.  Three different times in the early chapters Luke tells us:

“Early the next morning Jesus went out to an isolated place.”

“Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayers.”

“Jesus went up on a mountain to pray, and He prayed to God all night.”

If the Son of God needed quiet time, how much more do I?

I find myself surrounded by noise – TV, radio, cell phones.

I need that quiet time – time spent not only talking to God but taking time to allow His peace to be mine.

Today there is a lot of interest in “meditating” where we are encouraged to empty our mind.  But the quiet time I think Jesus calls us to is not emptying our mind but rather filling our thoughts with His word, His presence.

“Study this Book of Instruction continually. Meditate on it day and night so you will be sure to obey everything written in it. Only then will you prosper and succeed in all you do.”   Joshua 1:8

“Oh, the joys of those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or stand around with sinners, or join in with mockers.  But they delight in the law of the Lord, meditating on it day and night.”

I realize finding quiet time is easier for me at this age of life.  I’m retired, children all grown.  My days are pretty much free to do what I please, when I please.

But for a young couple with small children or families with teenagers, finding that quiet time has to be a difficult thing to do.

As I have thought about taking more quiet time myself this week, I have asked God to help me spend more time praying for those single moms, busy families that they will feel God’s presence even in their “noisy” environments and busy lives.

Do you find it difficult to have quiet time?

What do you do to make that quiet time?