hardygrrl climbs out of the haypile, dusting hay out of her hair, after the successful Swanton.
She goes over to **Crunchy Frog’s ** tree, careful to stay just out of reach, and lets him know how many home runs Barry Bonds is up to.
She then heads to the media room-complete with movie screen, dvd player, and Dolby sound-to watch MST3K.
hardygrrl finds AlbertRose in the media room, staring with confusion at all the buttons & things on the three remotes. She gently takes them from his grasp and activates the MST3K-watching components. AlbertRose thanks her and sits next to Sheila P. Albert, who is shedding white fur on the sofa. Sheila sees one of Elenfair’s trained dogs and goes over to sniff.
Lita attempts to sneak up on hardygrrl, but gets disoriented and trips when her plastic chest sways a little bit too far to the right. Lita trips, and hardygrrl does another successful swanton bomb onto Lita, hooking the leg and getting the three-count.
Meanwhile, Jack Dean Tyler knocks on the front door, with a suitcase full of NuDermis Foreskin Replacements. Manhattan answers the door and promptly kicks JDT in the testicles.
hardygrrl watches MST3K, the “Manos-the Hands of Fate” episode, while cuddling her Lil Spike Kitty and telling Lil Spike about her namesake, Spike Dudley.
She idly wonders if someone will make popcorn…
… strolling around the corner of the house with a tall plastic cup of diet tonic water in one hand and the hand of one’s true heart in the other. Small glimpses of bliss here and there, as each Doper is soothed into a very mellow frame of mind by the collective support and agreeable comportment of all.
Dusk spreads is softened wings of cool air and honeysuckle and roses, courtesy of some of our compadres. We gather around the wrap-around porch, talking and laughing.
A few of us tend the immense grill, fired by charcoal and bits of scented woods. Trays of marinated vegetables, sliced meats and corn elbow each other for access to the hottest parts of the grill, eager to be done to a turn.
Fresh squeezed juices, fermented drinks and well water whet our dry throats. A delightful repast, replete with conversation and gratifying moments of silence.
Cats and dogs wander about.
Nighttime draws her shawl over the space around the Great House like a darkly soothing caress…
…And as night draws down, a swirling cloud of bats arises from somewhere on the grounds…
Of course there’s a high-tech lair under the house, Al–that’s where the labs are. Of course, the rest of the manse is decidedly techie under its genteel surface. How many old mansions have you seen with OC-3 lines and an all-fiber network?
(In light of my earlier flub, my sig returneth)
And Crunchy responds by reminding her that the Giants just swept the Cubs, so maybe she shouldn’t be such a Bonds fan at this point in the season. 
I’m in the kitchen crushing garlic for the chili on the stove and mixing up a batch of cornbread.
Oh, and try the guacamole. I like it a little heavy on the lime, but let me know what you think.
I’m tending to the beehives which are located way way WAY out in the back fields. The bees pollinate the llama-bean-of-death-fertilized garden and occasionally visit the honeysuckle that celestina smells and the fairy roses that Sophie planted. The clover hay (Llamas love clover hay) helps the bees produce all of the honey that the Straight Dope House will ever need.
Anya’s favorite place is the screened in sunroom, she has set up a space in the corner and has her easel near a window so she can sketch the gardens and fuzzy bunnies nearby. There is enough space for her to set up a small room and there is a nearby closet for the rest of her stuff.
The space has several couches and recliners, a T-3 internet connection, plenty of shelf space, a pantry, a full kitchen with all the toys. Several cats are hanging out, and all the ferrets are playing.
Juniper comandeers the guacamole and a bag of tortilla chips and joins the MST3K crowd in the media room. “I’ve got my tapes of seasons six and seven up in my room,” she says. “Shall I go get them or are we sticking with Joel today?”
Wandering the halls of the Great House, realizing the fruit of my labors has apparently grown lush in a veritable potpourri of fertilizer.
Quickly prints up a small notice, and distributes it under people’s doorways and into their laps. I steadfastly refuse to allocate mail boxes for residents, it’s too organized and stuff. A simple missive, requesting that our fellow Dopers do what they can to add to the International Olympics of animal dung, and make sure to deposit THEIR pet’s offerings in the main dung heap, downstream from our egress point in the river that’s at the bottom of G.Q.Glade.
Tarries in the kitchen, tasting JonScribe’s chili. Mahhhh, but that IS some tasty chili ! Shall I just cook up a nice big pot of Basmati Rice to go with that, for those of us who adore it over rice instead of beans or a hunk of cornbread?
Finds himself in his Yurt out on the edge of the Woods. Sunlight gushing in through the round holes hewn in the walls. Cats everwhere, many of whom have 6 toes on each paw. Small bronze disks hold chunks of frankinscense, the smoke curling and wafting upwards to the central vent in the middle of the yurt’s roof, the sunlight cutting beautifully through the tasty smoke.
TubaDiva sits in her most favorite chair, feet up, reading a book of " Tuba Players Throughout the Ages, or A History of the Lip and Lung Society ". We share a plate of goat cheese and stuffed grape leaves. phouka is silent in her corner, painting a still life of us as we sit and talk. FULLY clothed, despite her earlier requests, but she’s happy enough to scarf down our goat cheese and leaves, and paint.
AbbySthrnAccent leans her head in the door to announce that dinner is close, and would anyone like to go to the citrus groves on the way up to the Great House and pick some lemons for the lemonade today? TubaDiva and I readily abandon our books for the treat of some time amongst the citrus. We meet up with CrankyAsAnOldMan and Qadgop The Mercotan picking limes. We figure out that jarbaby must still be in her bath, since the 3rd floor back bathroom window is steamed over and has the thumpa-ballumpa of fine music pounding through the opening in it. We take turns sharing a small knife, and amuse ourselves for a while by hurling wedges of lemon and lime up and through the window, knowing that her bathtub ( replete with claw feet and beautiful creme porcelain ) lays JUST below the window. We laugh uproariously as fistfuls of soapy wedges come FLYING back out the window, accompanied by gales of laughter from mrjarbaby, who was apparently busy tending the more rigorous aspects of bathing his dearly beloved.
Life is good. It’s sweet, and bittersweet both. It’s hot days and torrid nights, glowing screens and the sensations of electricity delivered through the lightest caress as you sit a the Oaken Table, talking and exchanging warm smiles.
Anthracite and her dear heart have lain in a good supply of coal for the stove, it’ll be a merry eve around the hearth tonight…
Well, this house has got to have a sauna. That’s where I’ll be. Cedar-lined with stones from Lake Superior on the top of the stove. Located at the edge of the orchard.
I throw another dipper full of water on the stones and lean back on the bench and just…relax. Nothing to do but sweat the cares of the day away.
Since I’ve been in there a while, I step outside to cool off and dump a small bucket of water over my head. The tepid water is refreshing and cleansing; steam floats off my body as the water evaporates from the heat of my skin.
The remnant of light from the west is deep, heavy and the wind smells of sycamores and night-blooming jasmine. Bats are everywhere, picking off the skeeters and more noxious night time visitors. Deer step cautiously into the orchard to begin feeding on the lush grass and wind fallen apples. If you’re still, they don’t run away. The hoot of an owl sends little mammals scurrying for cover.
I can hear the sound of laughter and music from the house up yonder. One more trip into the sauna and then I’ll go up to the house for dinner, after a quick bath at the pump just outside the sauna’s door.
Tomorrow: horseback riding.
That’s it!
Pick a location, and I’ll be there lickety split with my crew to start construction. I’ll get the concrete poured today, and a crew to start framing in a week.
Just let me know where the pool is supposed to go . . .
Tripler
I can build this. You just bring the beer.
Bladed ones, mainly, though I do have a whip and some nunchaku as well.
As night falls, Mnementh leaves his hut and begins stalking the woods, collecting enormous branches for the fireplace, and scaring silly any dopers he finds wandering about. 
So, anyone want to attend a bonfire?
I’m gonna claim the porch swing - doesn’t it come with a scantily-clad young man who will keep it swinging gently as I while away the day in a pleasant reverie?? I sure hope RueDeDay stops by to tell us some of his famous stories.
Oh, boy?? Fetch me a cool refreshing beverage, there’s a good lad…
Since I have discovered the personal size invisibility spray, I will be mainly in the mens’s room, ogling the choicer male specimens of the SDMB, short sheeting the beds, and cracking hilarious one liners that no one can hear.
Well, since Saint Zero has graciously volunteered to be chauffeur, may I sign on as the official SDMB mechanic? My automotive credentials come from the University of Farting Around With Various $500 Clunkers and Reading Every Car Magazine on The Planet, but I can do most of what needs doing for the SDMB fleet.
Having donned my blue coveralls and commandeered the sixteen-stall carriage house behind the main residence, I’ll proceed to outfit it with a modern oil-resistant floor, tile walls, a grease pit and hydraulic lift. Certainly you may use any of the tools located in the large chests lining the walls, but please ask before taking. Also, kindly remember that my timing light is not a Lazer Tag weapon and the parts washer is not to be used for holding live lobsters.
Along with Saint Zero’s vehicle, I’ll probably be back in the garage fooling around with my '66 Fleetwood, '65 Chrysler New Yorker convertible, or the assortment of early '40s-to-late '50s Packards and Cadillacs parked in the stalls. Of course, there will be plenty of space for all us Dopers to park their cars inside a nice warm stall, and I’ll be happy to change the oil, detail, and maintain your chariots as needed. What’s that, hardygrrl? A supercharger for your black 5.0 Mustang LX? Sure, no problem! Pull in here next to my '63 Riviera and let’s see what we can do.
As a Doper in a canoe sinks slowly in the West and the sun pulls away from our dock, I tap on BunnyGirl’s sauna door and ask if I may take a schvitz to loosen the tired muscles earned dropping a Chevy 454 crate motor into a '72 Vega as a “congrats on finishing basic training” present for Airman Doors. After a relaxing schvitz and a pleasant conversation with BunnyGirl, I head back to the house for a relaxing cool shower and freshen up just in time for dinner. Man, that’s some good chili! May I have some more please?
Ahhh. . .after dinner, a cigar and a nice cold Yuengling Lager on the back porch as I sit and read the newspaper, chatting amiably with whoever braves the smoke to come out and join me. Cop a squat and fire up a stogie if you like.
Pinch me, I’m dreaming. . .<pinch>
Damn, back to work.
Damn, I dunno what to eat, the stuff on the grill or the chili in the kitchen. Either way, is there dessert? And is there caramel involved with that dessert?
Night time at the Straight Dope House goes on and on and on. We all stay up way late watching movies, chatting on the front porch (and there are no mosquitos allowed at the SDH). It feels perfect outside and inside.
I look over at celestina to laugh over some thing or another that Crunchy Frog is shouting at us (something about the Cubs?), and we almost fall out of our rocking chairs, as we’ve had a bit too much to drink hic. Now, if only I knew where to sleep…or are we allowed to sleep under the stars?
Hmmm, this kitchen is nice and big, and I’ve never cooked on a coal stove before. Fortunately, there’s a nice, big, modern convection oven. Got to keep y’all fed, y’know.
::MsRobyn goes to the pantry and starts inventorying the contents::
Robin
Ok, time to think about some of the logistics for the house…
It will need several kitchens, grills of all types, and a smokehouse. There are enough doper chefs here, and no two seem to agree on how to do anything. Plus, we will probably need a special safe for Zenster’s dry rub recipe.
A whole sh*tload of bathrooms. I’ve been reading too many poo-related threads lately, and we all seem to have definite ideas about this. Maybe a seperate wing for the truly poo-shy.
Top-notch sound insulation in all the walls. Again, we have pretty disparate musical tastes and we don’t want the Rammstein faction obliterating the Bee Gees set over volume issues. Plus with all the flirts, the extra insulation should keep the bedspring noises down (maybe even have special hook-up rooms with condom vending machines. Maybe we could leave one or two rooms without insulation for those that like to be heard.
Several large dens/TV rooms. As much as the mods try to keep us in line, there are those of us who just can’t be in the same room. Not to mention those who are temperature tyrants.
And what of our dear beloved mods. Do they get royal suites, or will they live with DeathLlama in the barn? Can they ban people from the house? If they catch you searching through all the rooms, can they warn you?
Should there be a guest house for the lurkers?
Should Cecil get his own penthouse suite (with room for Ed of course)?
Many issues to think about before we pull the permits. Then the arguments about color schemes and furniture can start.