The man cave

We've been laughingly referring to my old sewing space as "the man cave" or "the rumpus room" (how's that for an antiquated term?) since I moved out and Ray started getting the room fixed up. It will occasionally house guests, but it is mostly Ray's place to get away and make noise. I think I'll call it "the music room" because that sounds so very refined.

Ray has been a drummer since he was a teenager and played in school bands and marching bands and, when we were first married, in rock bands. In those days I was often the "roady" who helped haul drums and set them up and break them down. I know how to set up a drum kit. When we lived in Ashland he played drums with a bagpipe band and wore a kilt. Hubba hubba! In Ashland he also got together with a bunch of old guys at the Elks Hall where they played old big band music just for the fun of it. We called that one "the old man's band." Here in Portland he played music for awhile, but finally sold most of his drums and packed the rest away. Yesterday they came out of storage.

Cool African drum. It sounds wonderful. I love seeing the drums and percussion stuff again. I know how happy music makes Ray. I hope to be hearing some rumpus coming from the man cave.