The Yankee Flea market was another fun stop because it is enormous with over 200 vendors. As such you never know what you’re going to find! We spent quite a while here picking through the various booths and finding everything under the sun. The great thing about a place with this many vendors is that you’ll find not just a large variety of items but also price ranges. There’s something for everyone! And I came home with a jar of marbles since I have stopped taking marble photos at every location. I guess at the time I didn’t feel particularly encouraged to do so but it was a cute little signature of mine.
We picked through creepy clowns, dolls with vaguely threatening auras, cow creamers in the midst of an existential crisis, bad taxidermy, cast iron everything, hilarious Disney knock offs that looked just the slightest bit off, a model of a human spine, a marshmallow man with a changing face, and even an Old Timey Bottle reading “Cathartic Compound” which I am sure was something that throw you on your ass. Oh, and random “Pin the Pistol on the Cowboy” game and a mug with a naked woman and a wobbly butt. Very weird but hilarious. There were even a couple booths that appeared to be maintained by artists selling their works which is always lovely to see. You get out there!
All and all this was definitely one of the larger venues I’d go back to in a few months or years when everything has rolled over again. Fun fun!
Another day, another fantastically unending antique mall, filled to the brim with anything and everything my twisted heart could desire. This shop used to be an old roller skating rink but now hosts a great number of different vendors. In typical Maine fashion you will find lots and lots of random junk probably collected by a hoarder, tons of truly bizarre folk art and oddities, and the occasional tasteful antique for an equally tasteful price. This is one of my favorite places to hit when I am up here because it’s always full to the brim and the people are always charming and friendly (that goes for the customers as much as it does the dealers!)
Sooooo….. what did I find today? Well, it started with this delightfully demonic cat lamp…
“LOOK UP!” my mother kept yelling at me. “WHY?! Is something about to fall on me?!” No, there’s just a horrified baby doll hawking cigarettes up there.
Speaking of demonic cats…. This one is made out of “Real feline goat hair.” It’s as surprised as we are.
Maine is a great place to go if you collect racist black history artifacts. Most antique stores usually have a piece or two but Maine doesn’t hide them in the back room… This one struck me as even more “off” than usual! It reads, “My it shure am sweet!”
Then this was nearby. “HOLY SHIT, a black doll that looks human….” Carved from wood this was by far the least terrifying doll on offer.
Then I found this white doll shitting itself making a pouty face. Can’t really blame it. It was cuddled up with a black baby doll… and well… hatred is learned people!
Which brings me to this “topsy turvy doll….” which I think is some sort of liberal’s idea of teaching their kids equality…. but really, at the end of the day, it’s just a naked bi-racial conjoined twin from the Twilight Zone.
Here we have a nun converting all the heathen native children… and Batman. Because Batman is totally cool with that sort of thing.
Heeeeey, it’s Burger King…. before the make-over….. just WOW….
And then I came across this little orange haired clown doll… and I actually thought it was kind of cute. Everyone else was screaming in horror.
“LOOK UP! It’s Bugs Bunny!” I don’t believe that for a second. Why is the carrot glowing like that??
This sophisticated pig says you’re made of bacon.
This little white doll has been kidnapped and dressed in the garb of an Indian. Now he’s sad.
AHHH! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD KILL IT!!
Fun trivia fact: Little Miss Muffet was the daughter of a notorious entomologist who bred deadly deadly spiders in his lab.
Remember when Steamboat Willie got Bloat? Yeah, me either.
The look of absolute disgust on this little gent’s face… it’s almost like he heard another doll reciting the original version of Catch a Tiger by the Toe….
Here’s a bunch of African animals lined up behind a meat grinder.
I don’t know what heinous crime this little fella just committed but whatever it was I think I’m OK with it.
This elk looks a little too chill to be dead. He’s like someone’s reincarnated prankster uncle…
Now welcoming the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Doll. Limited granny edition.
I remember when I was a child I loved cuddling into bed to listen to my mother read me Snow White and the Demonic Squirrel...
Slightly morbid, Joe. Slightly morbid.
Hey! Look! It’s me fucking around!
Again I am not sure who this is supposed to be offending. It looks like a Mariachi band led by a really fat Native American woman…?
GNOMES!!! I know what you’re saying, “You’re terrified of dolls but you love gnomes?!” YES, YES I DO. And not just because their great grand daddy is supposed to be Priapus the ever-erect Greek God of Embarrassing ER Visits.
Remember when Irish Catholics weren’t considered “white.” *whistles*
PIXIES! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!
I’m not sure what just happened in this little scene…. but that little boy is crying and I feel like I need a shower.
What can still suck out your soul that isn’t a haunted doll? A haunted painting of a child…. I would not hang this in my house if you paid me.
Mother: “Look a gay couple!”
Me: “THOSE ARE BUTLERS.”
I don’t know what “gall salve” is but I question the legitimacy of rubbing it on my horse.
Here’s the Prince of Maine… in case you’re wondering…. Maine totally had a prince once and this is Him. His reign was toppled when the schoolyard bully smudged mud on his velvety suit and made him eat worms.
I’m always amused by the random unnamed photos in antique stores. This one isn’t even that old. There’s probably some guy out there, we’ll call him Dave, that is wandering by going, “HEY! THAT’S FUCKING ME! WHY IS MY PHOTO HANGING IN AN ANTIQUE STORE?!”
I don’t know who this little darling is either…. but I don’t trust her….
GAWD, those pixies are everywhere!! Going to have to invest in some Fairy Spray.
Betty Boop WOULD NEVER.
A surprisingly noble stuffed turkey…
Ever had a significant other that kept lamenting, “You make me want to shoot myself!” This is the perfect gift for them. Caffeine and guns. Can’t go wrong.
I have no idea why the scalp of Charlie Chaplin and some random Mountie are 50% off… but that seems like a deal!
Another probably haunted painting… Can you get higher insurance rates on things that are possessed?
Giggling. Killer. Corn.
Finally, this pooch is guaranteed to work better than an actual guard dog…
So I admit I didn’t get out much this winter but I still have been busy figuring out what to do with spring once it gets here. I have scheduled myself to visit more ruins, castles, haunted places, light houses, quirky one-of-a-kind mom and pop shops, perhaps a few farms, as well as more nature trails and museums. Who knows, I might even indulge in another passion – food! And to add to the excitement I am expanding to my repertoire of photos and writing with my very first video! I am hoping future videos will include interviews with more interesting local personalities, or at least with more subject matter than just me blathering on! ENJOY!
If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider donating to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on and sharing my adventures with you!
Hello again dear readers and followers! I have had SO MUCH fun this summer bringing you out to see the wilder spots of New England! And your responses to this have been amazing! I am hoping you’re still enjoying the journey because I am about to embark on another. You see my life fell apart about eleven months back in a big and serious way. I lost my beloved farm due to circumstances beyond my control and now I want to start a new one in celebration of all that is good and wonderful in New England. And this time it’ll be far better because I want to start it just as much for all you as I do for myself. It’ll be an educational farm and intentional homesteading community. If you’d like to learn more or possibly support my cause please feel free to visit my GoFundMe page: https://www.gofundme.com/help-fund-an-educational-farm And if you cannot donate but still want to support my bold ideas please share! share! share!
Thank you again for all your support, your suggestions, and all the beautiful and positive thoughts you have sent my way. May your journey be wonderful and your mind be at rest.
UPDATE: The GoFundMe didn’t fly so I have continued my efforts elsewhere. I have added a donate button to this blog to help me pay for gas money and keep it going and in the meantime I still work towards my homestead with my future farm’s website Through the Looking Glass Farm – there I started a video blog to philosophize the life and a store to sell my art (as well as others) and homesteading creations. Any support means the world to me and I thank you all for following my journey.
If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!
Today was a bit unusual. You see I am not a religious person, in fact have only been to a handful of churches and they were when I was a child because I was with a friend. In the United States it seems almost everyone is religious or at least was brought up going to church. Me on the other hand… I have NO IDEA what any of this is about! I do not know how to behave in a church, I do not know what they do in a church, and I do not understand all the strange rituals at all. With this being said I am a fiercely curious little thing and when I kept hearing rumors about this one church in particular my ears perked up. There’s a cute little church out here who has been defamed by locals who say Satanists practice there, or that it’s witchcraft, or they’re just weird people. Now, I know this is how God-fearing Christians describe anything they do not understand, mostly because I’ve been demonized and shunned for being “too worldly” myself (and in a hilarious side note this was before I got to see the world. Oh boy!) I knew something had to be up with this… so I went to investigate… and attend Sunday services…
Right off the bat this place had me chuckling at its hours: 1-3PM. Perfect for all the night owls out there who think that 8AM mass is surely God playing a fast one. This allowed me time to amble around Rietta Ranch, which is maybe three minutes away, beforehand. Rietta Ranch is one of my favorite places. It’s a HUGE flea market, the largest in New England and it’s always bustling. As luck would have it they had just opened a few weekends previously and I felt this was a happy diversion. Sadly it was a somewhat chilly day, and threatening to rain, and in addition to this it was 11AM which means everyone was packing up to leave. The market is supposed to be open until sundown but that changed to, “whenever the crowd leaves” and since most flea marketers are hardcore morning people this generally means everyone is packing up or gone around noon. Suffice to say that the vast majority of the 650 tables were empty by the time I got there. Still I meandered around. Sometimes I go with something in mind but most of the time I just roll with the punches. This time around the theme of the day seemed to be vinyls, knives, and cheap costume jewelry, all of which had their allure… Since I left my Vinyl collection behind at the last place I do need to rebuild all its classic rock and folk goodness but I’m already way tight on cash this month so I just browsed. The costume jewelry made me think of many friends who could rip them apart and make something prettier out of them at the right price and the knives… well I am not sure what was up with the rows upon rows of various hunting style knives. Maybe it was serial killer day. Who knows. I kept finding things I could steam punk the crap out of something with – giant cast iron keys, random metal pipes, rusty old tools, you name it. If I had the money and the space this would have been more fun and productive than going to Micheals. Oh the blasphemy! I forgot my camera and marbles so I snapped a few terrible photos with my half-dead cell phone camera. Love the rusty trunk!
After Rietta I went to the Church in the Wyldewoods. I must say – adorable wee church! From the outside anyway. I tentatively walked in… and the insides were…. confused. This place had the strangest architecture I have ever seen in a church. It looked like something between a tiny medieval castle and something you’d find in a German village from 400 years ago… There was a lot of dark posts and beams, sharp angles, and triangles which included something that looked like a jagged armament above the little room off the pulpit. The windows were also triangular with dark cross hatches throughout. Whoever planned this place must not have known much about psychology. This was not welcoming. No wonder people were muttering shit about Satanists. With that being said I still found it adorable but my idea of “adorable” includes the alien from the Alien movies and baby Cthulhu…
As it turns out there were no Satanists here, nor witches. There was however two depictions of Jesus, one over the alter which I am sure you are all familiar with – you know, Jesus that guy from Oxford, as Eddie Izzard puts it. That one. I wonder if this was just to ease people coming in… since otherwise this place didn’t seem overtly Christian. The services began pretty normal with hymns… the first of which was The Church in the Wild Woods, which was truly utterly and seriously adorable. It didn’t have any mentions of God or anything strange, it was just this rambling little story about a ramshackle church in the middle of nowhere. Really sweet. I mouthed it – and all the other hymns because I don’t know the tunes to any of them and it’s at this point I also realized I didn’t remember how to read sheet music either. It felt like the words were just dancing around the page and skipping to and fro. Took me a while to figure it out. This was the first hint I may not be a church goer. The second hint would be the fact I found the hymns to be amusing (as I don’t think a single key was hit correctly by anyone – and God bless them for trying!) and it creeped me out. Isn’t singing what cults do? I don’t know… I found the whole thing very weird but only because religion itself is weird to me. Besides this I felt like a fumbling idiot because besides not being able to read the hymns I couldn’t find them either. Was there an index? Were they memorized? Or was the number the preacher was saying somehow relevant? Do I look up the title to the song or Hymn #22? Do all hymns have titles? Jethro Tull does a song called Hymn 43…. Great song, just don’t listen too hard to the lyrics.
After the singing stopped there was a “healing” and people wandered up and sat in one of two chairs where they sat quietly and had one of two women “heal” them by placing their hands over them (reiki? I don’t know…) I also have no idea what they were healing – physical or spiritual ailments? I was starting to be a smidge uncomfortable because of how lost I was. This is so not my element and I had come totally alone this time.
After this there were more hymns and then the speaker went up to deliver the sermon. She gave us all a feather first. I smiled, politely accepted the feather, and wondered if I should know what the hell this was about. She then began with her sermon, Signs from God. Did you know if you find a feather it’s because there’s an angel near by? This is news to me, I thought this meant there was a bird nearby… Or are angels and birds one in the same? One winged thing is much like the next, sometimes I can’t tell the difference either. She went on about how songs on the radio, the smell of cigar smoke, the sight of something beloved can all be signs from the deceased. Nothing too odd about that except it seemed to be stretching to say when a song gets stuck in your head it’s for a reason. The songs I get stuck in my head are far from profound. The last one was just one line, gleefully put, “I’m in love with a narcissist!”
Sometimes I do feel like I get signs but most of the time my cynical nature is no, that’s just a damn feather, stop waxing methodical. And as far as looking for signs in the clouds… Oh I look for things in the clouds all the time, not because I think there’s something profound up to be divined. I just think it’s amusing when I can squint my eyes and see a duck smoking a cigar. I mean if everything she said really was a sign that must mean her life is seriously crowded with dead people. Then I started to wonder what I would do if I were dead and trying to send a message. What message would it be and to whom? I immediately decided it wouldn’t be anything profound – no “I’m OK” messages sent to grieving loved one. More likely I’d visit anyone going to a medium and send “messages” that make no sense at all. “I’m getting an image of a frog wearing pants? Does this mean something to you?” “No….” And I would laugh and laugh.
Funny I should mention mediums because this church was a spiritualist church – they believed in talking to dead people. I wondered if this would come up somehow. After the sermon we were led into more hymns. I realized that although I have heard Amazing Grace about thirty billion times I only knew the first line – probably because this is how long it takes me to find the remote and change the channel whenever it’s on some sappy commercial. Singing it now I realized the lyrics were…. weird. Grace gave you fear? Huh? How?! And is Grace a person? Because that’s the only way that line makes any sense. And as a child I was followed by Grace the door slamming ghost sooo… anything is within the realm of possibility. Then they collected donations… in envelopes. I was expecting a basket to be handed around, where were they getting the envelopes and why?? And oh shit, here’s the basket, sorry… no donation from me because I’m confused. This is exactly what I mean by being out of my element and not knowing how to act or what to do. That was about to be compounded once again as they all headed into meditation.
I don’t meditate, especially not publically, because that state of mind does really odd things for me. The only other time I publically meditated was at a past life regression — and my spirit guide ended up being a snarky bright red Chinese dragon who tore off a mask and reveled himself to be…. a bright red European dragon. See what I mean here? I don’t need to drink the Kool-Aid or down the mushrooms, my mind is already lost. Funny enough this meditation was to meet our guardian angel.
“Imagine a thick gray fog and through it you see an angel!” My mind was apparently bored by this idea so instead I saw a whale. A big super ugly whale. “Imagine they are getting close to you! Close and closer! So close!” The whale transported super close to me until all I could see was it’s big wart covered eye. I’m not sure what the point of that exercise was… Though I am thinking my guardian spirit might just be a smart ass, if he’s real at all, which I can’t say I truly believe.
This next part of the service involved the dead. From here two mediums did public readings on everyone here. I was the third person up. I smiled, thinking about a gnome in bright red rubber boots (an image I think I’d give to a medium if I were on the other side, no reason.) She told me a petite spitfire of a woman with short slightly curled dyed red or auburn hair was here for me. I figured maybe my aunt. She died when I was five. I don’t remember what she looked like but I do remember right before she died she dyed her hair this ghastly red that looked horrible on her, or so was the opinion of this five year old. She told me this woman was happy for me because I was working really hard towards something and she said she was really rooting for me but that I shouldn’t allow myself to be tread upon. Apparently this was offensive to her. I should stand up more for myself. Ehhhh, I think lately I have been doing that better than at any other point in my life. I just don’t expend negative energy unless I have to. This might be construed as being tread upon, I don’t know. I took this “message” with a grain of salt but smiled and nodded. I found it curious this was the same message I got during yesterday’s adventure when I decided to have my tarot cards read…
After this we ambled downstairs and I ate a slice of carrot cake while pretending I wasn’t there just for carrot cake. I was and wasn’t. The church part was a lot for me to do, socializing afterwards…. yeah, that’s putting me so far out of my comfort zone I don’t think I would have ever even tried before today but the people were sweet and the carrot cake was nice. I was damned hungry. Haven’t been eating for a host of reasons so I was starving. And of course the frosting hit my stomach like I’d swallowed rocks but I ate it anyway! And smiled, and said hello, and tried to be friendly but it’s hard. I am at a weird junction in my life where I can’t answer any normal question in any simple way. “So where do you work?” “Uhhhhh… I am trying to be a freelance writer?” It’s not a complete lie…. I do have this blog…. but answering, “I am trying to found my own educational farm through crowdsourcing” would be more accurate. That is a mouthful though. I sat and listened to the conversations around me. I tried not to laugh as the elderly gay gentleman next to me tried to see if anyone remembered Dorothy. The punderful ramifications of that were almost too much to bear. I stopped smiling when I heard another conversation about war crimes and being skinned alive. Yup, shit just got dark in here. I finished my cake and tried to slip out unnoticed but I have lost my ninja-like talent for this and didn’t succeed without saying an all too public good bye to everyone.
If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!
Ever since I was a tween I dreamed about going across the entire United States and soaking in everything it had to offer. I had grown up in a bubble – and as nice as that bubble was I wanted to know what else was out there besides the trees and stone walls of New Hampshire. Was it really like visiting another planet out West? Where the people the same all over? Was there anything that united this society besides the idea of country? As much as I longed to know the answer I kept my dreams to myself until at the age of 25 an opportunity arose and I figured it’s now or never.
Suddenly my freakish encyclopedic knowledge was actually useful! I picked lots of destinations – everything I had ever wanted to see from the geysers of Yellowstone, to the fossils of Butte National Monument, to the charismatic Robert the Doll in Key West. I was going to do it all.
A map was procured, one of those big pastel maps of the United States you see hanging in history and geography classes in every public school. Pins were stuck into desirable destinations like some sort of 2-D voodoo doll and then the waiting… the ungodly anxious waiting as the weather slowly creaked from one bone frigid season to something a little more livable. It begins!
If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!
So last night I decided to test out the tent and make sure the thing could withstand things like mild weather and an overly curious cat. It sounded like a good idea at the time so I pitched it in the back yard and started a little campfire.
I feasted on turkey burgers, turkey dogs, veggie burgers, potato chips, and potatoes and onions cooked over the coals with butter. I was stuffed to the gills when I decided to hang back and play some scrabble. This is always a fun game, played with the aid of the penguin, a small dictionary with penguin standing somewhat awkwardly on the front. This was an all out brutal competition were words were routinely made up. Anything for an edge. Kerfuffle is really a word. Honestly. The bloodshed kept everyone occupied until the last round when the fire had burned down to coals and the fairy of S’mores was calling my name.
I took my perfectly toasted marshmallow in my hands and carefully sloughed its golden skin off. From here I put my prize between a graham cracker and a bar of Hershey’s chocolate. I munched on the gooey molten mess as I returned my skinless marshmallow to the fire to toast it, and skin it, again. This was made all the easier by using giant S’more marshmallows which must be made for this sort of this. It’s amazing how such an act can transport you right back to being an eight year old girl scout. Oh happy days!
From here I decided to have a little morbid joy saying goodbye to Easter. I’d found stale jelly-filled Peep knock-offs on sale for 25 cents a bag, how could we resist? I threw them on the fire and watched them grow into gooey masses of apple-flavored lava. One of them shot it’s filling out like a little sugary squirt gun of mass destruction. It made such a satisfying bursting and sizzling noise as the toxic sludge rocketed to the other side of the fire pit and caught on fire. I added my own sordid commentary, giving voices to the Peeps, “Nooooooooooo! Why me?! Ahhhhhhhhhh!” as one does.
When I turned in for the night it was already pretty damn cold. The air mattress was blown up but I didn’t have a sleeping bag yet, just a faux lambskin blanket, which normally is very very warm, and a blanket to put on top of the mattress. I also had a pair of flannel PJs and a bathrobe I acquired after hunting down the biggest fluffiest Muppet I could find and taking a Bowie knife after it. I’m still unsure of the legality of Muppet hunting so this will remain a secret between my readers and myself…
Anyway! The tent is very spacious, it even has a front porch and let me tell you, putting it up reminded me of one of those building kits you give bored overly intellectual tweens. In the end I could stand up and walk in it at all points and the queen sized mattress didn’t make it too much smaller. It reminded me of the sort of tent people use when they run away to live with the bears in Alaska. I had it lit really well with a little LED light that could outshine any UFO, and I was quite comfortable… except for the fact I had chosen one of the coldest nights I could have. It dipped into the 30’s and with little to keep me away from the mattress I was freezing my ass off. I got up sore and slightly testy after I achieved somewhere between an hour and an hour and a half of sleep. I looked like crap! But I still got up to rummage through the town wide yard sale, after deconstructing the tent due to the rain I was told was coming at noon (it didn’t.)
At the yard sale I bought a teddy bear for 25 cents to feed my dog. It’s far cheaper than a pet store and whatever child loved the bears and bunnies I throw to her will never know they were fed to a pit bull who likes to pluck off their little beady eyes and noses first before disemboweling them and carefully plucking out their stuffing and dragging it’s deflated skin through the house like it’s the best playmate ever. She’s going to go a little nutty without me for a couple months so I’m spoiling her now with toys… I love my morbid pooch. Pepper is her name.
If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!
