Discovering the weird and whimsical sites of New England
Author: Theophanes Avery
Theophanes Avery is a whimsical travel blogger that is hopelessly in love with New England and all it's weird places, people, and things. Besides running way too many blogs they are the author of three books, at least one of them good, and they also enjoy raising aquarium fish in Walsted tanks, sculpting, Sharpie doodling, knitting, tattooing leather, homesteading, and whatever other hobby tickles their raging ADD. Less fortunately they are a hopelessly impoverished spoonie yelling to the world, "WE NEED MORE COMMUNITY!" but alas no one's listening. Make sure to find them on the FaceBook. They love new oddball friends. Fly the freak flag high my darlings!
It seems like every time I go to Maine a good portion of the trip ends up being weird excursions and a search for shoes. This time was no different as the hot glue holding my mother’s hobo shoes together was not working any more and the amount of shit she was getting for wearing them to literal threads was becoming too loud to ignore. Still, our trip was almost over so we decided not to go too far. A trip to Pennywise, the town’s punderfully named thrift store would have to do. She’d end up with three used pairs of shoes for $6 and I… got distracted by flowers growing in the park across the road.
Having at one time briefly lived in Pittsfield I was aware of this little park but I’d never bothered to check it out, figuring it was probably just a small stretch of green space for the nearby apartment building.
I was surprised to see that although very small this park was very well maintained and quite beautiful. It offered a cute little fountain at one end, a bountiful assortment of flowers spread throughout, a sweet view of the river, a memorial stone to the local doctor it was dedicated to, and several benches with which to enjoy the tranquility.
As such this micro park seems quite an enjoyable place to perhaps have a picnic if you’re in town.
On our way back from the Moore Manor Lavendar Farm we happened upon an old fixture, the Bradstreet farm stand. My mother grew up in these parts and remembers fondly going to school as a child with some of the members of the family that owns this farm.
We had stopped by on this day to see good things we could get to eat and we were not disappointed! Although it was still early in the season they still had quite a bit to offer. I grabbed a bag of fresh peas, some pickling cucumbers, two plump tomatoes, some beets still connected to their greens, and a couple zucchini. Later against the wishes of my body I’d eat the most delicious cucumber and tomato sandwhich with boiled beet greens for dinner later on. No complaints here! Well, aside from my gall bladderless digestive system which now believes cucumbers to be poison. Still worth it. The peas also served for a fun snack for me as I like them raw.
These veggies were pricier than the super market but much fresher and I can’t help but want to support these local ventures as much as I can, especially seeing how old most of our farmers are these days. On this day it was no different as a grandmotherly lady took our money at the counter and quietly laughed at our conversation.
I ended up at Moore Lavendar farm twice in one week due to an accidental theft. But before I get to that I’ll tell you a little bit about the place.
Moore Manor Lavendar is pretty easy to get to and has a weird little field parking lot as farms usually do. My travel companion on this day was just relieved they also had two portapotties, one attached to the parking lot and one outside the gift shop.
I have heard of pick your own berries or apples but this was my first time at a pick your own lavendar farm. And it was set up really lovely with all sorts of places to sit and enjoy the scenery and aroma. There was even a food truck and on this day two separate groups of picknickers.
They had the drying shed opened up for view to the public as well as a gift shop with everything lavendar you could possibly want. Lavendar bundles, lavendar soap, lavendar clothing, paintings of lavendar, and even lavendar tea and jam. I had no idea you could (or would want to) eat lavendar. But why would I? The smell of lavendar has always given me migraines so I usually stay the hell away from it. Why was I not on this day? Because I’m not very smart, that’s why. And oooo, was it pungent that day! My head was swirling, I was overheating in the sun, and my blood sugar was crashing from a lack of breakfast. Admittedly because of these factors the first trip out was…. unpleasant for me. Still I stuck around as my group picked bundles of lavendar. They were given a twist tie to put said bundle in, some scissors to snip them off the bush, and directions on how to do so and from which bushes, all recieved at the gift shop. Just outside the gift shop pots of live lavendar were set out for sale to anyone who may want to bring this little agricultural adventure home.
Admittedly, I did little on this first day besides find a nice spot away from the activity to just sit and watch. But then after paying for her bundle my mother in her usual fit of ADHD forgot to turn in the three pair of scissors and walked off with them.
This is how we ended up back there two days later and this time around it was cooler, my stomach was full, and I’d mastered breathing through my mouth. In doing so I noticed this place was kind of gorgeous. There was several gardens scattered about with all kinds of different flowers and I spent some time just taking photos of their beauty. We were also greeted warmly and thanked for returning the ill-begotten scissors.
This place was fun, family friendly, and was pretty cheap. On the day we went they were running a two for one deal so we ended up bringing two lavendar bundles home for only six or seven dollars, I can’t quite remember.
It was a somber day for a great deal of people and suffice to say on this year’s Independance Day I wasn’t feeling particularly like celebrating. It was a grim week and I wasn’t the only one feeling the crushing weight of current events.
But as the day progressed the mood started to change as so many of us checked in on each other. We acknowledged things were getting really bad but under the doom and gloom a seed of hope began to grow. We were going to survive this, beat it, and after that? The world is going to get better, be more kind. And in the meantime, while we all fight back in our own ways, it was important to remember one thing: no one owns our joy but ourselves. And it’s important to foster community and joy, especially in these tough times, to shine so bright no one can dim our inner light. But it still felt off to do the usual BBQ and fireworks, so now what?
For me I knew what my soul needed: a walk into the woods. And so with my mum and her little dog we headed to Country Road where I knew there were trails. I thought it was just another section of the rail trail but I was confused by the maps at the kiosk when I got there. They didn’t really match the paper maps they were dispensing and nothing looked like a rail trail. Still I saw one trail seemed an easy loop so we started by walking across the road from our parking spot and onto what looked like a small paved street being taken over by nature. However this only seemed to lead us to a quaint little residential neighborhood with private property signs everywhere. Where was the trail?? I had no idea so we headed back to the car and tried the trails directly aside the parking area beyond a gate.
From here we walked until we found a little pedestrian bridge and cobbled over it. There was another kiosk beyond with the same map with unnamed trails. We ended up taking what turned out to be a trail that I think was called Marsh View but I only saw the sign after completing it. Guess we went backwards. There were a couple benches and one view of the marsh. It was a decent enough trail if you’re looking for something easy, short, flat. The dog seemed to really enjoy it and despite the confusion the trails all looked well traveled. There was other people out there probably less confused than us.
I will likely go back and check out the other trail options. For today it was the perfect little distraction. A pleasant small walk into lush greenery. We managed to get back to the car before the tiny dog pooped out and before I overheated so it was a win on all sides.
About a month ago my mother decided she wanted a garden and ever since I’ve been outside battling a backyard that looks like the jungles of Vietnam.
Initially I had planted some seeds indoors but most did not make it. Then a couple weeks ago I started visiting a series of nurseries with no vegetables left. What gives?? Today I was determined to find something, anything, to put in this damn garden. And that’s how I ended up sooo far off the beaten path today.
I’d never been to the Mason Hollow Nursery but I thought it’d be a good place to check out. People seemed happy with it from the reviews. And so off I went!
Driving in Mason is like going back in time. It’s a town with a modest population but a surprising amount of land which results in a lot of long winding dirt roads to nowhere, the sort of roads you’re never quite sure are roads or just really long driveways. The road to the Mason Hollow Nursery was no different. It was a dirt road jutting off another dirt road. I don’t remember seeing a street sign buuut there was a huge sign with the business name and hours on it do I followed it… in a Prius… down a one lane dirt road with banking on either side making turning around impossible. Even so there were signs everywhere this wasnt quarry parking. How?! Where?! And what is this quarry you speak of?? It seemed to go on forever and get increasingly sketchy with one part that was clearly patched after a wash-out. It made me more than nervous. Then from the forest emerged a few houses which was fortunate because had it not been for their driveways there would have been no way to get around the SUV coming from the opposite direction. Still, these signs of civilization only proved to make me question even more where I was and if this adventure was going to end well. Finally I came to the end at a small dirt parking lot in front of a barn and attached greenhouse. Guess this was it? But it was still a bit confusing. Did I have to go into the barn?
Luckily a small group of people were here as well as a big fluffy Burmese Mountain Dog, all inside the barn. So I walked in and found a small cashier corner and beyond the barn? A huge nursery! An elderly gentleman asked if this was my first time here and gave me a quick run down of what’s what. His wife had started this place and specialized in hostas but there wasalso some succulents, some bushes and trees, some ferns, and around the corner what was left of the veggies.
I took a look at all the flowers but they weren’t blooming yet. The trees and ferns made me giggle a bit. They seemed like varieties I could dig out of the woods here. But then the plants got more interesting. There were several varieties of carnivorous plants next to the vegetables and they were large, very healthy, and absolutely gorgeous. I struggled to find a price tag but I’m sure they were pricey, they always are when you can find them. This was the first time I’d seen them in a local nursery! No matter
I found the veggie section. They were all tomato plants that looked like they’d been in the pot too long and we’re starting to turn yellow. Still, I knew I was late in getting plants this year and they were healthier than the last two nurseries I left empty handed from. Plus, I’d like to support this small local business. They were $5 each. I picked through them and chose the two best looking. I tried wandering up to the check out but got very distracted by a succulent section with some brilliantly colored succulents. The elderly woman responsible for the tomatoes this year asked if I needed a cart. I said no, I was good carrying these two. She told me the Kracken variety was giving her tomatoes into November last year. SWEET.
At the check-out I was told the tomatoes were actually not $5 a piece. It was the end of their season and they’d been marked down to $1.25 each. Seriously?? I excused myself and went back for several more varieties, spending $10 on eight plants. Six different tomato varieties.
Checking out I had a fun chat about the dog who apparently swims like a seal and once got lost using a bed of kelp as a raft. Good times!
I will definitely tell others of this place that seemed like it was out of time. Beautiful plants, wonderfully friendly staff, and an independent business. Whats not to love?
I planted the tomatoes and with any luck should have them growing like crazy soon.
On this particular outing we weren’t expecting to find much worthy of photography as this cemetery seems to have a rule about only using flat headstones and nothing else making it look more or less like a mowed field.
However there was a lichen covered bridge that made for a delightful photographer’s distraction as well as some sort of witchy resource? Something about water that goes under a cemetery… I’m not a witch so I just blinked at this information.
Another even better distraction was across the parking lot where a church hid all the interesting headstones! The churchyard was small but unique. On this day it was being set up for what I’m guessing was a wedding. An overworked groundskeeper jokingly asked if I was in need of a few buckets of grass. Not today!
We resumed checking out the stones. The first one I saw that stood out was a full bronze woman lying down with a small horse at her feet. Nearby were slate stones with family crests, dragons, and castles. It was very weird! Like we just stumbled into a European cemetery. And then there wad a creepy snarled tree that also distracted me for a few minutes before we made our way back to the car.
After our visit to the Yale University Art Gallery we hopped back into the car and tried to find somewhere to eat. After a minute we found a place only a block or so away so we stopped teasing the people looking for a parking space and hopped out of the car. I wasn’t going to parallel park again if we could walk!
Sure enough, a short amble away, past some lovely murals, we found an empty sandwhich parlor and wandered in.
The art on the walls were iconic images of mostly famous people with brightly colored sandwiches pasted into the scene. I chuckled.
The menu here was pretty extensive and a little wild. They had some unique and creative takes on sandwiches up there. We were both torn between two or three separate options each. I eventually settled on their pretzel coated chicken cutlet and my companion got the Chicken Bahn Mi. His was far prettier than mine but mine was a comfort food extravaganza and I bit into that thing like a rabbid werewolf. The dressing was a spicy mustard which I honestly don’t usually appreciate horse radish but it seemed to pair well with the pretzel.
My companion slipped me a pickled radish from his Bahn Mi. I’m an idiot so with little investigation I popped it into my mouth and immediately regretted every decision that brought me to this point in my life.
“It tastes like feet!” I mean I’ve never eaten feet but I feel like this is what a chalky callused ill-washed foot would taste like. I tried to swallow it to be polite but it was so gross I couldn’t get it to the back of my mouth. A quick drought of soda only proved to wash this foul flavor around my mouth even more. I was reduced to shoving french fries in pie hole like a starved raccoon trying to replace the aforementioned taste with glorious fried potatoes. This worked, thank God.
I am so happy I ordered my sandwhich, which was goddamn amazing and not whatever the hell my companion just haplessly consumed. This is NOT me complaining about the food, this entire experience was really just me being way over sensitive to how repulsive pickled things are and too dumb to remember my intense hatred of fermented foods.
So yeah, if you’re hungry and looking for something both familiar and a little adventurous check this place out! It’s a gem.
I know life is getting...grim for a whole lot of people right now but that only confirms that free entertainment and beauty are more needed now than ever and the Yale Art Gallery is free with so much to offer!
We expected a nice museum, though not enormous, maybe with a famous name or two tossed in we can recognize but no, this place was huge. Four whole floors just chuck full of fine art with so many famous names. A real smorgasbord of human creativity that touched on so many cultures and time periods around the world.
Of course I was already in a good mood because I managed to parallel park almost directly in front of the door in one try, during traffic, without attracting an audience of spectateurs. And then I had enough quarters to stuff that goddamn parking meter until it timed out. It’s the little things in life we must celebrate.
ANYWAY. The first exhibit we walked by on the main floor was the African section. I admit, I do not know much about African art or culture, which I realize I could be better at. These pieces were mostly tribal but from all over the continent. A lot of wild animals, masks, colorful figurines. Granted we were the only ones there and the guard followed us around like he thought we were going to stage a heist. Little intense. But I suppose… we’re both white and our ancestors were likely dicks sooo… I get it. But that’s not to say some white people aren’t capable of being respectful.
To be fair since we were there during an intense lull the first two floors had guards who continued to follow us. It was… uncomfortable. At one point I found a silver serving tray made by Paul Revere and went to point out the plaque that this information was written on when a guard barked at me not to touch the exhibits (in this case literal furniture hiding the damn plaque.) My inner 8-year-old knee-jerk responded by yelling, “I DIDN’T TOUCH ANYTHING!” And I honest to god didn’t. Not that my dirty paws could turn furniture (much we’d already seen at antique stores) into dust but you know, respect and all. The last concerning encounter we had was with a very large black guard literally hiding in the shadows of a nook waited for us to pass before saying in a booming voice, “How are you today?” But it wasn’t his stature that made me weary, nor the fact he was hiding in the shadows, it was the pained wheezing that came after his salutations that made me want to ask if he was OK. His facial expression did not seem to be the sort who’d want to be checked in on so I uncomfortably scuttled away, wondering if I was being trolled for being just another timid looking white chick. (I’m totally fine with a little teasing if this was the case.)
Luckily people started to fill the museum and we stopped getting tailed right around the time I squealed with excitement to see not one, not two, but three Van Goghs, none of which I’ve seen before, and I’ve seen almost his entire catalogue save for those in personal collections and Starry Night which is always on tour. That one’s on my bucket list but this one… was a lovely surprise!
We also got to see some Georgia O’Keefe landscapes, some decidedly not ballerina Degas, a couple Jackson Pollocks which looked exactly like the projectile baby vomit and/or splooge I thought it’d look like, quite a few Picassos that seemed like a decent into madness, er, I mean Cubanism, and some others that sounded vaguelly familiar.
These notables were smattered about in different places but we got to see a lot. Roman pottery and mosaics, a likely haunted ancient Meso-American doll, another Meso-American figurine that looked bizarrely like the trash Muppet in The Labyrinth, a gorgeous intensely ornate Buddha that was courting a young photographer who was taking photos of EVERY angle, a delightful depiction of Kali, another Buddha that was thin and serene, some unreasonably jacked baby Jesuses, some Cherubs that probably came from the depths of Hell, some fun abstract sculptures, an exquisite painting of a baby declaring her mom’s titty as her territory, some photography that gave me some ideas about my own, a bunch of “you know what a baby/horse/cat/dog look like, right?” Kinda paintings. A cursed jester, a terrifying baby tinman, some other super questionable scenes on canvas. Oh! And some really impressive shadow puppets! Which were colored on their back sides??
We were having so much fun by this time we had to go back out to feed the meter again. All and all we were there for almost three hours. We saw everything and even swung by the gift shop to buy a magnet and some post cards.
This place was so worth the drive and the fact it was free was astounding. And it was right next to the British Art Museum if you really want to be a glutton for free art. We were pretty exhausted though so we saved this for another day. Perhaps after I remember more than just Banksy as British artists…
After a long day of poking at a lot of weird and wonderful things it was time to find something to eat to gain my strength for the long drive home. We returned to the car after leaving the always bizarre Evens & Oddities and started looking things up on the phone.
However we’d had a LONG day and the thought of finding yet another parallel parking spot was starting to overwelm me. So I pitched eating at the super shady looking place we were already parked in front of. It looked worn down, seriously worn down, the sort of thing you see in the background of apocalypse films. Inside was even worse. It looked as if someone really had put a lot of time, energy, and money into making this place a success… thirty years ago.
A glass counter up front was covered, two convenience store ice cream freezers gathered several inches of dust behind the tables, a regular fridge was parked in the middle of the dining area and looked just as old. The bathroom was literally in a supply closet and had a sign reading, “No feet on the seat please!” In all my years of toilet usage I’ve never been tempted to stand or squat on the seat….
With that all being said I’m a big fan of finding “hidden gems,” places that scream, “We could be in Detroit” but taste like heaven.
We’d had two VERY long days of driving and exploring and I’d reached a point of exhaustion that had turned my brain into pudding. Looking at the vast choices of sauces/styles on their menu I chose the three piece chicken and asked my travel companion to pick a sauce for me as I was overwelmed by the choices. He picked a teriyaki BBQ sauce combination for me and ordered “pteredactyl wings” for himself which were spicy wings of some sort. We shared cheese fries and he also inhaled some sort of sandwhich I didn’t get a chance to identify.
When it was time to get our meal there seemed to be great confusion that we were staying there to eat and not getting take out. Indeed I think we may have been the first to do so in a number of years. As such we were served in take out boxes.
My meal came with a salad. A salad that came in a small dessert carton and consisted of 6 pieces of very wet iceberg lettuce, a single piece of bell pepper, and the very end piece of a cucumber. Later I’d find two juiliens of carrot and one of celery in the take away box. Was this the other half of the salad or the “vegetable” served with dinner? Who knows.
I moved onto the macaroni salad which I didn’t know came with this. It was… mostly dry macaroni noodles with the tiniest hint of mayonnaise and dill. Was this the price of not wanting to parallel park again?
Across the table my companion had swallowed his sandwhich whole and was currently tearing through the wings like a starving street urchin. At least his dinner was good. I turned to my chicken which made up for everything else. The four pieces were huge, like a whole goddamn chicken, and fucking delicious. I stabbed it with my fork and ate it by biting chunks off. My companion then told me I had a knife hidden under my box but I didn’t care. Too late for that now, I was committing. Nom nom nom. I stopped only to shove stolen cheese fries into my gullet from across the table. I had fries too but they weren’t drowning in nacho cheese and the cheese fry side order was a meal in itself anyway.
So yeah… that was that. I felt much better after food and luckily we weren’t serial killed. Always a plus.
This place came out of the blue for me. My travel companion gave me an address to drive to but didn’t say what it was so I was a little surprised it was not another antique store but rather a tiny shop full of dead things. Signs outside said goths were welcome. Okaaaaay…
Inside was a tiny shop set up in a retro circus freak show sort of way. In a series of curios cabinets there were bizarre taxidermy, sarcastic pins and patches, mildly radioactive earrings, and a large silver serving platter full of human teeth! Only incisors.
We bought two grab bags labeled “shit” to be supportive of such an odd shop since we didn’t have the cash to buy the toaster in a bathtub taxidermy duckling. They were full of delightfully weird stickers. Who knew Plaistow was such a fun town! This seemed like the perfect stop after Zoo Creatures… like going from an exotic pet store to the afterlife of an exotic pet store. Fun for all! If you’re unapologetically weird.
