One of the surprising things about New England cemeteries is that they are some of the best places in the region to get GORGEOUS autumn photos of blushing trees turning vibrant yellow, orange, and red, especially if you go around noon to 2PM when the sun is behind them and they’re just glowing! This was the case with the Newton Cemetery on our last visit. We’d read it was not just a cemetery but an arboretum, or tree sanctuary of sorts, what better place to go leaf peeping!
I know most of my cemetery visits describe burials of historic figures or go on and on about how powerfully beautiful the monuments were but this cemetery’s character was almost entirely in the trees. Though there were a few interesting monuments of mourning women and mausoleums they were mostly drab and boring, the sort of stones you see in every cemetery, dull and conformist, new and uninspiring. But the landscape was sprawling and hilly with these gorgeous trees and duck ponds smattered all about. It brought my heart so much joy to see all the color! It was just phenomenal. What a wonderful way to wave goodbye to the last gasp of Autumn.
If you happen to be in the area the arboretum aspect of this cemetery would make for a lovely walk (and indeed there was a lot of people here doing just that on this particular day) but if you’re in it for the stones it may not be worth the travel, they just weren’t as brilliant as they could have been. That being said this was a FANTASTIC cemetery for fall foliage photos so if that’s what you’re looking it might be worth a little road trip!
I’m a scientific person but more so I’m always in need of whimsy so when we found out there was a Bigfoot Research Institute we just had to give it a good poke.
The challenges to get there were the usual, as my brother says, “Boston isn’t made for cars.” And it isn’t. All the roads were made from old indigenous trails through the woods and probably game trails as well making them a delightfully confusing rats nest of pure chaos. Add to that afternoon traffic, volatile drivers, and teenagers popping wheeling on their bikes while weaving between cars and you end up with me swearing profusely, which let me tell you is not normal. I’m a very chill driver most days but Boston… this Bigfoot better be good!
I found a parking lot a little up the street and we ambled to the address given. I don’t recall if there was even a sign saying what it was. There was however a sign saying ring the bell to deliver packages. Are we delivering a package?
We rung the bell and we’re welcomed in shyly at first. We walked in and found ourselves somewhere strange, again. There was a standing desk, some books for sale around it, and not much in the way of bigfoot except a big stuffed one in the corner and a disorganized pile of random child-oriented bigfoot stuff in a collection of drawers. Confused, someone else came out and started to explain.
The Bigfoot Research Institute was really just a gimmick to use as a storefront and get people through the door but really this place was a creative writing organization (826 Boston) trying to inspire local youths. The books were books all the students had written. And the bigfoot stuff? The gimmick was really to be a spot for kids to gear up to become bigfoot hunters. It used to be something more to see with games and other interactive activities including a phone booth looking thing the kids could sit in as a narrator told them all the places they may go while blowing fans and AC on them for cold climates, etc. It was cute! We were told it was in disarray but if we came back in a year or two it’d be back to it’s former glory.
They also told us other chapters of their organization had completely different gimmicks and handed us a passport in case we may want to see them spread across the country and the world. I don’t get the feeling many adults go through their doors, they were very happy to see us and said if I ever wanted to there are remote volunteering opportunities. I may consider it!
Since we were here… might as well see what those books were about. I bought a book of poetry and my fellow bewildered traveler got a cookbook. The staff, now numbering three, happily burbled to us about their students and what they were working on saying that one of their previous alumni grew up to be Amanda Gorman the youngest inaugural poet in US history.
I read the book of poetry (How We May Appear; Gen Z’s Reflection on Equality through Poems, Essays, and Narratives) and it was pretty powerful to hear from so many diverse young minds, granted I also found it more than a bit heartbreaking. This generation coming up knows there’s not much of a future for them and they’re expressing it in lines like, “When I’m asked what I want to be when I grow up I always answer, ‘alive.'” I sincerely hope our societal climate starts changing. It’s a tragedy to all when brilliant minds are permanently stuck in poverty and exhaustion, unable to reach their potential because somewhere along the way this country forgot what community was and adopted an everyone for themselves take on public policies.
I admit driving to this place was more of a challenge than I appreciated and the bigfoot part of it was a bit of a flop but I’m happy we found this place, talked to some really kind people, and got to hear from a portion of society I rarely get to hear (being childless as I am.)
Anyway, if any of this interests you or you know a kid in the Boston area who could use a little encouragement to keep writing you can find their website at 826 Boston.
For the sake of making Catching Marbles more accessible this is the first blog entry which I am trying to post a reading of the entry to listen to. So, if you are so inclined enjoy, otherwise feel free to read it yourself and look at all the pretty pictures! Much love! ~Theo
Provincetown has been on my bucket list for a number of years, but I didn’t really know what to expect. All I knew was that it was a long drive and whomever I brought with me had to be really cool with a whole lot of shit. No prudes, no relatives, just merciless sarcasm and innuendo, like an episode of Hazbin Hotel! (which if you haven’t seen it yet it’s on Amazon Prime. Go watch it. Right now.)
ANYWAY, why would I want to visit New England’s queerest corner? Why wouldn’t I?! I figured it must be a neurodivergent heaven! I mean 1 out of every 6 normal people define themselves as gay but if you only poll autistic people…. literally over 70% of us identify as various flavors of the rainbow. Basically, it’s a giant blinking bug zapper to people like me.
Be this as it may I did not know anyone in my circle wanted to go and was more than happy to take some hostages on this venture. So, with BF and BFF in tow we made our way to Commercial Street, which I am going to say now IS NOT MADE FOR CARS. Do not drive down it! You will be MOBBED with pedestrians and only able to go at max 2 miles an hour until you find a parking lot. The parking lot I found was $15 and came with an attitude. Was I just learning how to drive? No sir, your instructions just suck and it’s making me nervous you’re standing directly in front of my car while I park. I suspect the $20 parking just down the road came with less guff. And a hanging sculpture of a Great White at the entrance….
Now that that was settled we all got out of the car and started our ambling. This was going to be another adventure in ADHD. We were immediately distracted by gargoyles. Fucking GARGOYLES. So, we walked away from Commercial Street to figure out why on earth there was a tower full of gargoyles overlooking the town. As it turns out this was the Pilgrim Monument. For a cool $20 you could take an elevator to the top. Or you could pay nothing and just read the pretty plaques probably stating that the pilgrims first landed in P-town not Plymouth. They merely wandered off and settled in Plymouth.
From here we decided to go back to Commercial Street which was FULL of summer tourists and pride flags of all persuasions. Some of them even flew out of the eaves of Seamen’s Bank which made us all giggle like twelve-year-olds. To be honest everything here seemed to be written with a wink and a nod. Never have I seen an oyster bar so thirsty. “Real men eat it raw.” (I’m really starting to wonder how I am going to contain the rest of this entry within the PG range for the angry and decidedly prudish AdSense gods.) Especially since the first thing we saw was this alleyway covered in…. I’m going to say erotic art. And baby doll heads in cages. My kinda weird.
It wasn’t all adult oriented. We started off within the normal area of family friendly activities stopping by a candy shop and checking off another bucket list item – trying saltwater taffy. It was soft! And sweet… and… I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but I’m glad I tried it anyway. The orange flavored ones were the best. From here we wandered into a little hippie shop with T-shirts and hippie clothing, funny bumper stickers and the usual touristy shit, and a forbidden staircase to the above 18 crowd. Wait, what? You can’t just dangle a forbidden staircase; curiosity will kill the cat (but satisfaction will bring him back.) So, what was up there? A weird convenience store of dildos and hookahs and bongs and pipes and more adult toys… just an overwhelming blizzard of rainbow colors… and textures… and why does this dildo look like it’s made for a platypus? (If you know, you know…and if you don’t you probably shouldn’t google what’s up with platypus bits.)
ANYWAY. We came across a lot that afternoon. Much of it was perfectly tame like a T-shirt shop for funny T-shirts that “can be printed in 9 seconds! Just pick a design!” As well as galleries, so many galleries with such a range of topics. There was even one that was just hyper detailed photos of your eyes. Or someone else’s eyes, but I’m pretty sure the point was to make it your own. And there was an AIDS monument we accidentally found as well as another monument with a ship on it that I would have read if I weren’t also trying to run and catch up with my crew. Lollygagger.
The whole street seemed to be places to eat, dispensaries, adult stores, galleries, tourist traps, billboards for drag shows (dammit, I want to see Hedwig live now!) and a smattering of bookstores. One such bookstore I’m pretty sure was a fairy trap. My companions, also twelve at heart, said damn straight it is a fairy trap. It was down a long alley that was completely covered in vines. How is that not some sort of fae attempt at luring unsuspecting humans?! We’re all idiots because we walked right into it. And it was sweet! A little quiet used bookstore with some really interesting titles… granted a large selection for the LGBT+ community. I enjoyed it.
Then we ended up walking by yet another sex shop but this one had signs in the windows none of us could ignore. One was the shop’s name, “Toys of Eros: More toys than the devil has sinners!” One point for the Greek mythology reference, another for the blasphemy, can we make it any better? Oh yes, they can also have a sign on the door that says they won’t sell to bigots except with MUCH more colorful language. I want to post a photo I took of it on FaceBook but I’d have to censor 30% of the words. SIGH. And beside all that there were promises of a sex museum! Fine… we’ll follow the free candy sign into the big black van just this once. The sex museum was more of an entryway full of terrifying cake mixer looking vibrators. Did you know that the electric vibrator predates electrical outlets? They had to be plugged into light bulb fixtures! So, I guess you can diddle or have light but you can’t have both. They also had a merkin. Looked like a dead rat. And some other things. Of course, by this time we’re in the shop. Clever ploy sex nerds, clever ploy.
First, we saw the case of glass twat ticklers. Slightly terrifying but I’m sure they were phantasma-orgasmic. I was then distracted by a rack of leather puppy masks, which are just… so… perfect…. for wearing when you go back in time just to scare the hell out of people. Hey, no one said it had to be a sexual thing. Sometimes, intrusive thoughts need love too. You could totally be a cryptid. I believe in you. ANYWAY, back to the task at hand – there was a wall of whips and switches and floggers with which to fondle all under a flying mannikin descending from the ceiling on a sex swing. Speaking of uses against manufacturer’s instructions I knew someone once who hoisted her rottweiler into a tree with one of those so she could spray her bath-hating pup down with a garden hose. Try getting that image out of your head.
I think the store clerk was bored because at this point she approached us and started showing us a whole rack of pocket pussies. You may wonder why a gay man and a woman would entertain such a thing but I wasn’t going to walk away without poking at it and HOLY SHIT this feels more real than my own flesh and blood bits! Whaaaaat is going on here?! This is where morbid curiosity gets you. Pondering what decisions in life brought you to this exact moment. They also had some that were less hyper realistic and more demure – and by that I mean hidden in what looked like a coffee thermos. I’m just saying, if I opened up my thermos one day and the death of Adam stared back at me from with it… Well, it’d just make the whole rest of the day weird, you know. Awkward weird. Naked Lunch weird.
It’s OK though because past the trans-friendly corner there was a delightful selection of vibrating muff marauders. Again, the clerk made sure to turn on every one and hand them to me and my companions. So many speeds, and vibration patterns, textures, and sizes. Cute little ones and ones that looked like they were made by Black and Decker complete with attachments. Purple ones, pink ones, black ones, shiny ones. Ones that thrust as well as vibrated! Hell, there was even one that sucked. Quite literally. It was a suction device for lady beans. That one was called the Womanizer. Of course, hearing that I tried to goad the clerk into telling me what was the most offensively named product in the store but she shied away from my cheerful trolling. Shame. I would have enjoyed that list.
As we left the clerk let it slip she was from NH and I had to ask where exactly. This resulted in her asking where I was and when I told her she had the same not great opinion of my town. Said the only good thing about it was the Walmart and the people were miserable. Guys, I’ve been saying this for years, and everyone always says all small towns suck but low! I’ve never felt so validated in my life to meet a complete stranger who sees the unique shittiness of my hometown. BIG SIGH!
It’d been a long but fun day. We’d found food and places to poke at and were really just heading back to the car when we saw a young woman across the street sitting at a typewriter with a sign reading something like, “I’ll write a poem for you.” This intrigued all of us to varying degrees and we went to see what that was all about. In short order we found ourselves talking to her and telling her about our day to which she took a notecard out, placed it in her typewriter, and in the matter of a minute managed to concisely summarize our day with some pretty words. It warmed my Beatnik heart and provided a beautiful souvenir. We decided to give her $20 for her efforts. And you can follow her on Instagram! @sticky6wordbandit
It was getting late and we were heading back to the car but that’s always perfect for yet more distractions. This time we’d be playing with a bunch of dead bugs. There was a whole shop for them! Just… butterflies in frames… and weird creepy crawly keychains… Made my inner bug loving twelve-year-old very happy. And finally we wandered into a well-lit and empty gallery because we’d seen one of the paintings from the street that looked decidedly like an all-male orgy melted like candles into each other in some sort of acid induced hallucination. The other art ranged from beautiful and serene to more erotic scenes. Then there was a little sign pointing to a dark streetside staircase reading, “there’s more in the basement!” Another fairy trap. I wasn’t about to but after reading the sign aloud my companion said we should go down and a disembodied voice from the underworld yelled, “YEAH! YOU SHOULD!” You guys, no, this is definitely a fairy trap. We’re gonna be disappeared. But alas the basement was just a TINY room barely big enough for the three of us and the disembodied voice was the artist who swooped by and up the stairs with all the deftness of… well, I guess a fairy.
I really liked some of the really close up paintings of blueberries and fruit. Sadly, I didn’t have 2 or 3K on me. But none the less I wished him good luck as I popped out of his gallery and into the night. We all agreed that as fun as today was we’d still like to come back and see more. And so that’s how our day ended… with sweet beautiful whimsy and more than a little innuendo. Totally worth it.
This entry has to be the most ADHD adventure we have ever taken. It started because we were in search of a public bathroom and google was more than happy to oblige. That’s how we ended up at this lovely little park. I didn’t need a bathroom but I noticed a little pier-kinda structure and I wanted to poke at it. Below it swelled swarms of little fish who breached the surface in a way that made it seem the canal water was boiling. As I stood trying to take photos of this a seagull carefully aimed its latest BM at my companion. It thwacked the deck of where we were standing with a wet slap. MISSED! Seagulls are such fuckers sometimes.
As my other companion came out of the bathroom and found us we all noticed there was a really populous pedestrian and bike path aside the canal. Should we check it out? We’d already had a REALLY full day and it was approaching evening. Hey look! Birds! And so we found ourselves walking down this path with a bunch of other people, all different paces, us getting increasingly distracted by the alarmingly calm wildlife. We first approached a huuuuge swarm of cormorants just gathering atop a bridge. Not far from them there was several storks just fishing, not a care in the world to the people going by, of course sea gulls continued to make their presence known, and then as it was evening the bunnies and groundhogs started showing up…
By now we’d already walked quite a way but there was a bridge not too far away. We should just walk to the bridge, I suggested. The closer we walked to it the farther away it seemed to become! And at some point my body had had enough with my bullshit and I just started overheating like an old steam locked car. Since we had not planned to go for a full hike after a trip to the bathroom no one as carrying water. I contemplated climbing down the banks of the canal and dipping my feet in the water. Eventually we made it somewhat close to the bridge where there was a bench that I promptly melted into.
By now the sun was going down and there was this gorgeous pink hue in the sky highlighting the bridge and reflecting on the water. SO GORGEOUS. I could not have planned this if I tried! And so even though my body was fucking done with me and I was in pain and turning all kinds of funny colors I was still with it enough to be completely and utterly thankful for this absolutely bonkers detour because the photos I was taking were so well worth it, as was the time spent with some of my favorite people.
It was A DAY. A long, weird, whimsical day and this was the perfect way to end it. or at least end the adventuring part as we shuffled back into the car and drove into the great blue yonder. This was a surprise destination for sure but if you’re in the area and aching for a good enjoyable walk (or bike ride) check it out! The scenery was amazing!
We had had such an eventful day poking at random things that food was in order and what better place to stop for lunch than an eccentric burger joint in a wedding cake house? The decor was just as delightfully whimsical when we walked in. In fact the first thing we saw were these ostrich fashionistas on the wall. We waited for quite a while wondering if there was a bell or something we’d failed to figure out when a waitress popped out of the back room and led us to a room at the side.
Everywhere there was weird art hanging on the wall getting weirder with every frame. We sat near the pickled mermaid, for instance. Now, I am not usually someone who eats burgers so this was going to be a bit of a test for me but so far I was at least enjoying the atmosphere. I ended up getting the sweet potato and quinoa burger, which again, was a first. My companions bought some sort of exotic sounding pork sandwich and a normal burger, with a side of sweet potato fries, though both showed interest in some sort of spicy burger that apparently sounded like an “ass blaster,” not my words but I’m appreciative of the humor. Usually there’s at least one person at the table that’s less than enthusiastic about their meal but this time around the food was amazing for everyone. I even passed a bite of mine around and had two carnivores admit it was good! I stole a sweet potato fry too and it was crispy and delicious. This place had a small menu but they knew what they were doing and they did it well! We were all so full after this.
On a side note the bathroom was its own adventure. It was still a normal Victorian bathroom with a big soaking tub, a shower that was clearly added later, and a pristinely clean toilet just looking pretty sitting there. It seemed a luxurious bathroom if I may say so myself.
We all left very full and very happy and I would highly recommend this place to anyone in the area or any foodies who want to travel!
Sometimes when you’re having a great day and you just don’t want it to end you find a second antique store to go to and that’s what we did. We drove straight from our wonderful visit at Sandwich Antiques to… this place… which was decidedly less whimsical. Sure, one of my companions kept entertained with a cache of swords and I found a decoy duck but all and all this was mostly a military antique store and as such didn’t really have the flare I was looking for. Not to mention the whole counter of Nazi bullshit was… You know, I’m just tired, that’s all.
The only really entertaining thing I found was an absolutely batshit bizarre painting which depicted a couple and the floating disembodied heads of two children in a puff of cigar smoke. What did is meeeeean??? We may never know.
You’d think after a hike and a cemetery jaunt we’d be too pooped to go on but no, there was the promise of antiquing nearby and how happy I am to have found this place! It was a GEM.
Upon entering we were greeted and told there were 200 plus cases of antiques here and I was welcome to take as many photos as I pleased. I was a bit speechless because usually I am regarded with deep suspicion for taking photos and then I have to make the whole spiel about no, I am not a robber, just someone with a travel blog, and so on and so forth. I probably should have at least said as much but I was so taken aback by the moment I didn’t get a chance to.
Most antique stores are pretty similiar but every once in a while you find one that is just oozing personality. This was one of those place and myself and my travel companions had great fun peering into each case and finding the most disturbing or odd objects we could find. There was just SO MUCH of these things – from the usual probably haunted dolls to a vase swarming with infants clinging to every side. You know, something for everyone. There was an abundance of creepy old horses that only vaguelly looked said creatures and my personal favorite was a faded old cannister which depicted a giggling baby clutching a razor blade. Things were different back in the day. And if creepy wasn’t your thing there was also cute in the form of a really neat nursery tale book written in some sort of thick dialect – maybe Scottish or Irish? And there was also beautiful in the form of a really neat chandelier made of slices of agate and some exquisitely carved furniture as well which I had to joke wouldn’t fit into the Prius. Shame I lost my ability to speak properally in that moment. This happens fairly frequently to me but it’s still annoying.
This was also a lovely place for weird art. It adorned the walls and showed up in 3D as odd folk-art of animals and homemade Gothic dollhouses. There was just one delight after another. And we apparently enjoyed ourselves so much the owners couldn’t help but comment on all the giggling. But no buys? Not this time ma’am, but I am sure we will be back on some day at least one of us has money (yay, poor planning!) This place was an absolute joy. I’d suggest it to anyone who loves the old and the odd.
After taking a walk down the old Jailhouse Trail we came back out to the parking lot and noticed there was a little cemetery just across the way. It looked very small but hey, we’re here, why not?
The cemetery was attached to a lovely unitarian church and at first we thought it was only a few stones however we soon realized that it wound around the church and very quickly became the TARDIS of cemeteries going very far back and even across the road! I guess Barnstable must have had quite a booming population at one point! Having done no research at all I do not know if there is anyone noteworthy buried here, though I would kind of doubt it. It did however have stones going all the way back to old slate and sandstone with the usual weird carvings I adore so much. We got quite a hike out of it! And a spooky photo of myself and one of my companions silhouetted in a way that make us look like ghosts! How cool is that? Definitely a fin little detour.
Sometimes when you have been out adventuring for as long as I have the inspiration starts to run a little dry and then you just have to ask the universe what it thinks you should do. In this particular case it thinks I should go to the oldest wooden jailhouse in the United States which was said to be open. Sounded good to me so off we went! And there it was in all it’s adorable glory sitting next to an old blacksmith shop and a Naval Museum. But woe! Although the brochure on the door said it was open it was not. So we took a walk down the trail directly behind it – two days in a row – because as you guessed it, it wasn’t open the day after either.
And you know what? The trail was a destination in and of itself! Cute and cozy and near civilization and yet covered in vines and greenery that made it seem like an import of some far away jungle. Before very long we crossed a railroad track which provided a fun opportunity for photos. Beyond that there seemed to be a number of unmarked trails all jutting off of each other. I am honestly not sure where we ended up or why. But when I started overheating we headed our way back, having had our walk in for the day.
It was kind of cute. I would definitely tell someone who lives in the area to go check it out. Maybe you’ll get lucky and the old jailhouse will be open! If only… as for the trail, it was nice, worth travelling very far? maybe not. Although the surrounding area was super interesting and unique so maybe….
There’s few things more enticing than the promise of a large antique store with multiple dealers. This was one of those and whew! We found some weird things! My favorite was a wrought iron bank that was in the style of Punch and Judy. Give it a quarter and they walloped each other! Fun for the whole family!
As usual we got to play Is This a Dog? with a painting that looked…. vaguely doglike and yet just bunnylike enough to raise a few eyebrows. Another “dog” had such weird googly eyes we couldn’t tell what was wrong with it. But the overwhelming theme of this shop seemed to be disturbingly suggestive bric-a-bracs of tipsy and or seductive children. Little weird. Little uncomfortable. That’s not even mentioning the commemorative plate of a boy betting another boy to…. eat something. What was the something? WHO KNOWS! But it’s not all losses on the side of the children – there were two photographic wall hangings of a sweet little girl that I am absolutely positive came with a free ghost. And if that wasn’t to your style there was also a uranium glass lemon juicer. Nothing like irradiated lemon juice. Mmmmm. Taste the glow. Speaking of which there was also some anti-CIA Russian propaganda that was… an interesting rabbit hole to fall down. Thanks to FaceBook and someone image searching the damn thing. “The Moscow City Court sentenced Paul Whelan, a citizen of the United States and several other countries, accused of espionage, to 16 years in a maximum-security penal colony, finding him guilty of espionage against the Russian federation.” (The poster full of rats was — a depiction of a rat getting what it deserved. Wink wink nod nod.)
All and all this was a fun shop with a lot of un finds. Worth the travel for its good size and variation.
