When we announced our plans to spend the summer in the Rocky Mountains, we’d just finished creating a Man Cave for Martin to tinker in at the corner of our living room.  The space wasn’t much.  It was just a desk with a bifold door that he could shut when company came to visit.

It was time to leave Berlin, and a bunch of you kept asking me, “What about Martin’s new space?”  To be honest, it wasn’t something we thought a whole lot about.  You want to know why?  Now that we’re settling into our home for the summer, this is where Martin spends his days:

It’s the hangar filled with airplanes, tools, and a whole lot of greasy, man-looking stuff.  It’s where all the guys in the county go to drool.

Before I met Martin, my idea of an airport was revolving doors, metal detectors, and baggage carts.  Now I am seeing the other side of things – the part that makes you smell like an oil can if you spend any length of time in it.  It’s the part where you get to know the “hangar dog” and “hangar kittie” so well you’re practically BFF.  I’m getting used to dirty leather couches (I assume they’re to go with the leather coats all pilots must own).  I have to duck my head to get around the wings of airplanes.  And dusty piles of aviation magazines abound on banged up coffee tables, sort of like the collections at the hair dresser’s except the aviation magazines get really boring.

The good news is that the women’s bathrooms are always really clean.  No one’s around to use them!

Sure I could do without the dust and smell of oil.  But it’s not like I’m going home to our apartment in Berlin and have to worry about getting dirt on the bright yellow couch.  I’m going home to an easy going house made of tires that I share with a family of mice.

Do you guys have any places that you find yourself drawn to?  From the place you always knew you’d wind up to that (oily smelling?) place you never fathomed you’d be spending your days in, we’d sure like to know the place that really floats your boat…  or rather flies your plane.