I’m setting up my own heavily planted 55-gallon fish tank and up until now I have been buying plants (and shrimp!) online but I had a bad nitrate spike and figured I could use some more plants quick to help resolve the issue. And so I asked the allmighty Google gods if there were any mom-and-pop shops still in existence in the area. The answer was…. not a lot. Most have been obliterated by PetCo and PetSmart which is a bleeding shame. I can tell you so many stories of a misspent youth perusing all these tiny weird pet shops of the past. You NEVER knew what you were about to walk into and the diversity of animals was amazing! But alas. Today was not a day for nostalgia. I had an errand to complete!
That’s how I ended up at Forest Wonders. Honestly, I have no idea how this place escaped my radar but it looks like it’s been here a long while. It sits in the same plaza as a hydroponics store (how ironic is that?) and a smoke shop. The outside is garishly decorated in a probably desperate attempt to flag down whim shoppers. I get it. it must be tough being a mom-and-pop pet store these days.
Inside I was greeted with this absolutely darling black kitty, clearly in heat and out of her kitten loving mind, just rolling around in the window like an Amsterdamian hooker. Her physique was that of a Siamese, probably a cross. I have SUCH a soft spot for Siamese crosses. I gave her scritches and continued on. There were a few isles of fish stuff, a nice variety actually. And then there was the actual fish. This is the first time I have seen feeder guppies in decades. Seriously. I think they were 50 cents a piece and all in a huge tank next to the feeder goldfish. (All the previous pet stores were selling their guppies for 5 or 6 bucks a pop no matter how butt ugly they were.) And then we got to the real deal. Here there was the best assortment of fish by far that I have seen in the area. Mostly all in little two and a half gallon holding tanks but not overcrowded, just fancy. There were a number of cheaper L-series plecos, two “rope fish” that looked like eels to me, an electric catfish, a foot long arowana, and some more common fair. In the corner was a marine set up but it was mostly empty – only had two fish – a spirited maroon clownfish (who took a piece of my heart) and some other fish I would have totally taken home and nursed if I had a saltwater tank. Despite all the other fish looking fantastic this one looked thin as fuck and stressed. She took a bigger part of my heart. GAH.
Around the corner was a row of bettas and some of them were actually pretty! (Sorry, I just think most are kind of fugly. It’s a matter of personal taste I know.) And then beyond them was a whole room of critters which was soooo fun. Canaries and finches of odd varieties and colors, a gaggle of parakeets, a smattering of common lizards, and even a few fury things including a long-haired rex mouse and a degu. Thank god I am really allergic to mice because that little fucker was cuuuuuuute! This room was all dark and when the woman realized I was in there she turned on the lights for me. That’s when everything here became even cuter. They had a good diversity of critters. This really reminded me of the golden age of pet shops and it didn’t smell bad. It was all very clean.
Back into the main part of the pet store I noticed one large tank divided into four with large fish in it including some absolutely stunning huge L-series plecos. My heart may have fluttered a bit. But alas, I was here for plants! So I asked if I had missed them. There were maybe five in with the bettas, tiny little sprigs, all super common plants I already had in my tank except for the last which looked like a very small scallion someone shoved in a fish tank appropriately titled “water onion.” I looked at it dubiously, shrugged my shoulders, said thank you and left. All and all I think this is a great place if you’re looking for critters – fancy fish, birds, rodents, and reptiles. I regret I didn’t buy anything but I’m not going to lie – I might be back for fish someday.
Brimfield MA is known throughout New England as hosting the largest antique fair in the area and they do it three times a year – once in spring, once during the summer, and once during autumn, each time lasting about a week. And these fairs are serious – they are HUGE. Basically a good chunk of main street (all lined with antique shops) turns the entire area into one giant open-air market with literally hundreds of vendors. Every conceivable space that’s not being used for selling is turned into a giant Byzantine parking lot and even so… it’s hard to find parking when it’s busy.
I’ve been to Brimfield before and knew it was something you take a whole day to do. I have been wanting to go back for years now but have never managed to get someone to go with me and it’s one of those things I’d rather share than go alone to because it is such an experience. So I was happy when a few weeks ago my companion brought it up. This year I wouldn’t forget and I wouldn’t go in summer (in the miserable heat!)
We woke up late that day and honestly I was expecting to spend the day looking for a dentist so I didn’t really try to wake up early but instead of this my companion really wanted to go somewhere so I laid out two options – Brimfield which was two hours away or an abandoned fort that was 15 minutes away. The fair closes at 5 and with two hours of driving that was only two hours to spend there. I once again said it was a HUGE event and said maybe we’d better go the next day but no, he was all charged to go on Tuesday. So off we went.
The weather was PERFECT and I was very excited to finally be going. I wanted to see if I could find any terrifying medical antiques (not that I can afford them) and just have a generally good day. It’d been so long since I had been there that I had forgotten about the parking situation. By the time I drove up we were already running out of time and I passed all the parking lots (as many had “full” and “closed” signs out and the ones that didn’t also didn’t look promising.) I drove one mile an hour through the whole fair in a row of traffic as people who were completely unafraid of cars just walked in front of them whenever! I had to turn around and seek parking somewhat outside of the festivities for a cheaper $10. The lots more centrally located were $20. The sight of all the people and everything going on immediately sent my companion into a downward spiral of overwhelm. It wasn’t a great start.
However, we were successful at finding parking (there were TWO spaces left) and we went on our merry way. The one great thing about the Brimfield antique fair that has nothing to do with antiques is all the food trucks. They’re everywhere and make spending the day there a lot more pleasant. I could smell fried dough (which I really wanted – but couldn’t figure out who had it) and I found the lemonade stand that uses real lemons that is SO GOOD in summer heat. We started to wanter into the back end of the antique fair and look around and without even going far we found this fabulous orange couch I totally fell in love with and the usual parade of probably haunted dolls – two of them were even anatomically correct baby dolls. (Just why??) There were also marbles up the wazoo!
Sadly, nothing I picked up was marked with a price. Not the marbles, not the cool rock skulls I thought would make a nice fish tank decoration, not the partially hidden Tupperware tub FULL of racist bullshit, not the odd rusted out farming implements, not the possessed dolls… and I know if something isn’t marked it’s too expensive for me. Some of the vendors were also missing in action which didn’t really help matters. By now my companion had gone from overwhelm to shutdown as his toothache became too much to bear. I rescued him from an old hippie vendor who was trying to talk to him as I chatted happily with other vendors. And it’s weird. I used to come to these things HATING the social aspect of it but today I was really enjoying the chit chat.
We wandered back and forth with no sense of direction for only an hour or so before heading back to the car, having seen only the tiniest bit of the fair. We had stayed only long enough to see some truly bizarre art, some odd ideas of lawn ornamentation, and the closest thing to a medical antique I could ask for – a poster of the spine for chiropractic usage. I never did get my fried dough but it’s probably for the better. By the time I got done driving 2 hours home a migraine had set in and I was exhausted – but still happy I went! And as usual I can’t wait to go again.
*Scroll to the bottom for photos or enjoy a good read below.
A few weeks ago I heard a book calling out to me as I strolled haplessly through a Barnes and Noble. It was titled Over my Dead Body and it was all about the evolution of the garden cemeteries starting in Paris and working their way over here to the United States. It was a very informative (and often funny) read which mentioned a lot of cemeteries here in New England, one of which I’d never been to before. So that’s how I ended up at the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord Massachusetts last week. It’s the home of Author’s Ridge which is where Lousia May Alcott author of Little Women, Henry David Thoreau author of Walden or Life in the Woods, Ralph Waldo Emmerson the poet, essayist, and philosopher, and Nathaniel Hawthorne the author of the Scarlet Letter and The House of Seven Gables are all buried quite close to each other.
Honestly it was weird I didn’t know about this place before seeing as I am constantly enamored with authors, cemeteries, and history. Still. Sleepy Hollow is a large cemetery with clearly marked signs leading to Author’s Ridge and scant parking so keep that in mind if you visit.
So how did all these icons of their era end up buried in a row? Simple, they weren’t. Back in the day the cemetery more or less bought their remains so they could put them here to drive-up tourism. Capitalism at its finest. Nothing is off limits. Not even celebrity corpses. But it worked! And people are STILL flocking here. Although oddly enough there were remarkably few pennies. Alcott had the most. I wonder if they weren’t being cleaned up or if this bunch just wouldn’t be fond of having pennies left for them. They seem the type…
I’d been accidentally stalking the life of Lousia May Alcott for some time weaving in and out of the strange and wonderful landmarks they had something to do with and I have been coming to learn they were a fascinating individual, possibly even a trans or non-binary icon as in their own words they declared, “‘I am more than half-persuaded that I am a man’s soul, put by some freak of nature into a woman’s body.” And they liked to be referred to as gentleman, like a boss! They were buried in a family plot with their author mother Abigail May Alcott and author sisters Elizabeth Sewell Alcott and Abigail May Alcott Nieriker. Their last remaining sister wasn’t a writer but she was inspiration for Meg in Little Women and she also resides in the family plot. Her name was Anna Bronson Alcott Pratt. Pretty hard-hitting literary family there.
Admittedly I don’t know much about Emerson, he’s flown under my radar for some reason. Though I did previously visit the former resting spot of Henry David Thoreau’s cabin in the woods aside Walden Pond. I could appreciate his deep and intense need to be one with the wilderness. However, my knee jerk reaction since childhood was to not have any real fondness for Nathaniel Hawthorne. I decided at 12 he was whiny, and my opinion has only gotten bleaker with age. He wrote The Scarlet Letter and The House of Seven Gables which is a real place and a delight to visit. He’s buried with his likely more talented writer and artist wife Sophia Amelia Peabody Hawthrone who was relocated from her original burial in London in 2006! THAT POOR DEAR.
I will note now there are other authors buried here who are not on author’s ridge. They include but may not be limited to:
Novelist, poet, and screenwriter Millen Brand known for his 1937 novel The Outward Room and his 1948 screenplay The Snake Pit.
Prominent transcendentalist, poet, and dear friend of Thoreau: William Ellery Channing whose books include “The Woodsman” (1849), “Near Home” (1858), and “The Wanderer” (1871)
Intrepid journalist Irene Agnes Dolores Corbally Kuhn who was the first woman to broadcast on the radio in China and whose career spanned a great many interesting topics from interviewing Charlie Chaplin and Margaret Sanger to covering the Lindbergh baby kidnapping.
Robin Moore – the author of The Green Berets and The French Connection
Franklin Benjamin Sanborne – Writer and one of the “Secret Six” who funded John Brown’s Raid on Harper Ferry sparking the Civil War. Gotta love a trouble maker!
Margaret Sidney – Children’s book author of The Little Peppers and How They Grew series under a penname.
Not be outdone there are other people of historical note here. In fact many of them are written up on a board near the entrance of the cemetery that also has a little map and I think a QR code for an audio tour. We decided to wander around like cracked out squirrels looking for whatever took our interest in any particular second weaving in and out of some areas several times, talking to other lost cemetery goers, and getting distracted by beautiful monuments and really ornate slate stones. So much diversity here!
As we wandered we found slates with ornate carvings – sometimes whole family crests, as well as a number of modern stones that had the deceased’s signature on them. I’ve never seen either of these before or a slab of green granite being used instead of marble. There was also Edward Nealy’s memorial which was an old indigenous mortar being currently used as birdbath. A slate stone commemorating a woman who was a teenager when the British came into the tavern she lived atop of and announced their occupation of the colonies. There was even a few Asian stones with characters on them but my two favorites were a fairly recent burial who had A TON of rocks set on top of his stone. He must have been loved by SO MANY people to have acquired that many rocks! On the complete opposite side of the spectrum I found a husband and wife drama from the 1800’s. They were in a family plot and the husband had practically his whole obituary on his stone – totally mental amount of words and aside him his wife had a matching stone that literally only ready her name, date of birth, and date of death. WOW, what happened there?! Upon closer inspection she didn’t have the same surname so I am guessing she remarried after her husband died and then came back to be buried awkwardly in the family plot. Ooooo the scandal!
But I suppose I should get back to the other famous people buried here… My favorite I think was a very unassuming one. Her name was Anne Rainsford French Bush who was the first woman to get a driver’s license! I left her a penny (as there were none there and if I am thankful for anything in this life it’s that I, as the owner of a pair of tits and a twat, have the freedom to drive a car. VERY UNDERATED RIGHT.) Not to be outdone there was also Katherine K Davis who wrote the lyrics for The Little Drummer Boy. Her stone was the hardest to find as it was a flat ground level stone and there were soooooo many ground hornets in the area. Thousands. I tried taking a photo but they were too small to pick up. You’ll just have to believe me this was the biggest swarm of ground hornets I have ever seen in my life. This cemetery is known for bird watching as migrating birds seem to love it here – I suspect many will get eaten by them in a month or two.
Daniel Chester French, the sculptor responsible for the seated Lincoln in Washing DC also shares a residence here with the other authors and artists. And in a quieter but no less important role we also found Mary Lemnist Titcomb – the creator of the first bookwagon (or bookmobile,) Elizabeth Palmer Peabody who helped create the kindergarten system in the US, William Monroe Spencer – the first man in America to manufacture graphite pencils, and Ephraim Wales Bull – who bred the first Concord grapes, and Marc and Emily Daniels – a married couple working in television as a director and camera coordinator respectively. Marc’s resume is impressive including episodes of I Love Lucy, Hogans Heros, and Star Trek and Emily was one of the first women to work behind the scenes with the cameras on shows such as I Love Lucy. Their stones were the only ones we did not find. I don’t know where they were hiding but we looked a good long time for them – with a terrible map, a confused GPS, and a broken gut instinct.
We didn’t bother to try and find the oodles of politicians and famous gun makers. Suffice to say we’re both a little weary of such things at the moment.
All and all this cemetery has soooo many historically interesting people, especially women of note as well as authors. It was on some beautiful grounds and aside from the lack of parking and the thousands of hornets it was actually really pleasant! I would highly suggest it to any cemetery or literary lover.
In desperate need of a change of scenery we loaded up our bags and the cat and set off for the great state of Maine to watch a blizzard and go antique shopping afterwards. It was a break everyone needed in their souls and the antique stores didn’t disappoint!
The first one we ended up at was Elmer’s Barn in Cooper’s Mills Maine. We ended up there after stopping briefly into a favorite haunt Hussy’s General Store which was less than ten minutes away. Sadly, they did not have any Bigfoot pillows so we left to meander our way to the antique store to satiate our desire for strange things.
I’d never been to Elmer’s Barn but it boasted of four floors of the unique and unusual and the parking lot seemed to agree with this stance. There were random weird large artifacts scattered around and a cluster of hens with their gorgeous rooster just chilling at the entrance, pecking around, doing chicken things. Their eggs were on sale inside. Now that – I could really support. Love me some random free-range chickens!
Inside the first thing I noticed was in various nooks and corners there were terrifying taxidermy in little hats. Why? Because why not. A penguin, a gopher, an ermine, a caribou, and even a bear. That was a good start!
Obviously, it was a great place to continue playing my two favorite antique store games trying to find the creepiest dolls and the most racist bullshit we could muster. This place was unique because in addition to a very light smattering of minstrel-y black memorabilia there was also a suuuuper antisemitic print hanging on the wall. This would be a first for me. Antisemitism is definitely a thing but weirdly in the US it’s not really immediately apparent in any media like the mammie dolls and such are. This form of bigotry seems more reliant on coded language and conspiracy theories than visual representations. You know… “lizard people” running the government and Jewish space lasers…. truly batshit things.
Funny enough the other racist artifacts were mostly hidden and there weren’t many of them although I did find the most unique mammie to date. Her head lifted to reveal she functioned as a creamer! When I was done poking at that I moved on to the dolls… there was a nice variety of creepy dolls. And better still everything I picked up seemed very decently priced. I ended up bringing home two metal car banks from the 1970’s for $10 and $15 and two big hardcover volumes of National Geographic spanning several months in 1918 and 1920. I don’t know anything about them but they sure were interesting! And humbling… to see a whole volume dedicated to how the only World War was finally over… followed by a long article about how to racially profile various European ethnic groups… I’m sure that didn’t cause any problems later on. *COUGH COUGH* Meanwhile my companion took a fancy to $10.50 worth of Disney merchandise. He grew up in the middle classes which seem to really dig that stuff. I grew up poor in the woods with a bunny ear TV, three channels, and a mother who’d tell us to go play outside if we were bored. As such I have shockingly little references to anything Disney but I enjoy his passion nonetheless and was in full support of this purchase.
After this we had to wade through a GREAT DEAL of mud to get back to the car and I may have completely caked my new kicks and bellbottoms. SIGH. All and all it was a wonderful excursion and I have added it to my list of placed to check out again.
This week’s adventure brought us to Umbrella Factory which FaceBook has been suggesting for a few weeks before it was again suggested by my hiking buddy that explored the Freetown State Forest with me. I admit I didn’t know what it was… but just the fact it came so highly recommended was all I needed.
My travel companion was even more confused. He thought we were going to an actual factory that makes umbrellas. Not quite. It was another one of those quirky little places nestled in what seems to be a residential neighborhood. There were No Parking signs half a mile up the road so this place must get craaaaazy busy.
To be honest I didn’t know what to expect either as I was just given the vaguest idea of what I was going to. And when I drove in and saw a sign reading “general store” I was like oh boy, here we go again. The general store was more of a gift store. It was small, in what looked to be a repurposed house, but boy did it have the best selection of random funny things I have seen in a long while, if ever. Far from the usual Live, Laugh, Love signs this place had everything from jokey bumper stickers, to ironically named soap, to classic rock inspired Tarot cards, and the perfect assortment of gag gifts for anyone with an off sense of humor. There was even a series of angry candles with scents that included Fuck Around & Find Out and Fuck Your Abortion Law. When the candles start getting pissed maybe it’s a sign old white men should stop legislating uteruses. Just a thought.
Upstairs seemed like a totally different adventure. Here there was a whole floor dedicated to simple musical instruments like thumb pianos and thunder tubes. Beyond them was a room full of various African art. LOVED the rooster by the way. And my companion? Well, he blew through the duck caller and when it quacked he jumped so that was funny all around. And I got to play with a wooden xylophone which always makes me stupidly happy (even though I have exactly no musical talent.)
After this we went outside and out back there was a little courtyard type thing with a flower garden, a booth for a silhouette artist, a little cafe, and some free-range chickens. Oh, and a paddock of emus. Which were thumping away. I love the weird drumming noise the females make. It’s something else. Really rubs in how much of a dinosaur those birds are.
“Where are their arms?”
“…They’re birds they don’t have arms… you mean wings? They have vestigial wings. They’re only like half a foot long though.”
I forgot how much I enjoyed free range chickens. Their behavior is so different from penned ones. So much more relaxed and happy.
Out here there was also a bamboo forest. Now I have fought bamboo my entire life. Once that shit starts growing it’s nearly goddamn impossible to kill it and it spreads and uuuuugggggghhhhh. However, I’d never let my patches of bamboo grow into a forest, nor even seen a bamboo forest before. It was… really weird. Almost like climbing through grass if I were an ant. There was a little maze out here in the bamboo with a rudimentary shelter of sorts made of stacks of the stuff. I must say it was a unique experience.
Also within this veritable little village of weird house shops there were a few hippie boutiques as well as a shop for indigenous art that seemed to be run by the local tribe. That was cool. I always like to see that.
Throughout all this we found a lot of weird things but no umbrellas for sale (‘least we missed them.) It was an adventure best summarized by my companion’s comment, “I wasn’t expecting emus today.” No, because no one expects emus.
Soooo… we may have been having a bit of a hard time lately coming up with new places to go. I mean we haven’t completely run out of the usual options of cemeteries, hiking paths, and antique stores, but sometimes it’s nice to do something a little different. This time I let my travel companion conspire with Google for something on the unusual side. And that’s how we ended up at the world’s most apathetically named theme park – The Dinosaur Place.
Neither one of us knew what to expect but there were rumors it was near an antique store so if we didn’t like it there was always a second option. Well! Things got very weird right from the start when we pulled into the parking lot and were greeted by a life size T-rex sporting sunglasses and a bottle of coke. Behind it there was a gift shop and what looked like maybe a miniature golf course. We went into the gift shop to buy tickets. Neither one of us were expecting it to cost $29.99 a head for adults. Thank God we weren’t teenagers as they seemed to have an additional tax at $33.99. We’d find out why in a few minutes. We forked over the dough and hoped for the best.
I feel it’s pertinent to note that it was no less than 86°F that day (that’s 30°c for the rest of the world) and I had remarked that “Maybe we should find something inside to do today…” I was assured it’d be fine. There was a “splash zone.” Whatever that meant.
So we walked in and right away there was a bathroom stationed there with a dinosaur in a dress for the ladies and I was a little too entertained by this I admit but that’s perfectly OK. Beyond that there seemed to be a very run of the mill playground for small children, though one of the things to climb on looked like a dinosaur skull and beyond that there were velociraptors on the roof of a nearby building. Cute. This was also where the “splash zone” was and in it there were gaggles of wee children playing in what looked to me like glorified sprinklers with some slidey bits. I wasn’t surprised by this turn of events. I mean when you build something in a dinosaur theme you probably have a very key target audience – wee children under the age of 8 or so. No matter. I could be an 8-year-old at heart, though I did wonder at first if this was worth two old farts like ourselves to pay $30 a piece for. And I could tell you with certainty it wasn’t worth paying an extra fee for a teenager to loiter here with the babies. They’d be bored out of their minds.
We looked at the little You Are Here map and started to amble around the perimeter. There were far less people beyond the splash zone. In fact there was almost no one at all. We were alone for most of our trek. That’s when we started finding random life size dinosaurs nestled in the woods just off the path and suddenly the whimsy overtook the both of us and it became worth both the money and the truly oppressive heat and humidity which was absolutely befitting the Jurassic era.
I took lots of photos but sadly had the wrong camera. I have one that’s great for indoor photos and one that’s great for outdoor photos. I have no idea why they function this way but having my indoor camera on such a bright day seemed to make most of my photos seem washed out. Not the mention it kept focusing on random branches instead of the dinosaurs. UGH. But even so I was absolutely delighted to see the dinosaurs scattered throughout the park like this. There were even a few you could approach and I can only imagine they would have made for some truly delightful family vacation type snaps if we had any kids in tow. I have to admit my heart may have melted a little bit when one of these ended up being my childhood favorite – the parasaurolophus (otherwise known as the dinosaur with a trumpet on its head) – lying on the ground with a nest of eggs. I squeed a little and pet her on the head for good luck before returning to our little jaunt around the park.
The park is not large and most of the walking paths are surrounded by fantastic shady trees and a body of water of some sort but even so the heat was killing me. I drank about a gallon of water and it still wasn’t enough. I had to sit down and rest about 2/3rds of the way through before I melted into the pavement. Even my companion who works forging iron in the bowels of Hell (OK not really but still) was pouring sweat, absolutely drenched, big droplets of perspiration dripping off his nose. I must have looked even worse.
I don’t think we were there long but it was enough. I thoroughly enjoyed it and was particularly amused in one of the two caves when an animatronic dinosaur spit and nearly soaked my companion who darted out of the way just in time. “Any kids who have seen Jurassic Park are going to be scarred for life getting spit on by that thing!” AND IT’LL BE WORTH IT.
When we got back to the gift shop we loitered there like delinquents because they had their AC cranked and I was overheating badly. When we got back outside it was still gross out there. We noticed an ice cream parlour and drunk from heat exhaustion forked over $5 for a scoop. I guess this is normal for amusement parks. I’d only been to one in my life when I was five and my well-meaning father brought me to Whalom. I remember one ride that entire day – the little helicopters. My brother was much older but didn’t fair any better as he was prone to motion sickness. This would be the last outing I remember taking with both my father and brother. Ah, memories. Anyway. I was too hot to really eat the ice cream. By now my body was rejecting water but I still managed to VERY SLOWLY eat it without throwing it back up. As I finished the last bite there was a sudden downfall of rain and I just opened my arms and almost yelled, “BRING IT ON!”
My companion was less happy about this as the rain didn’t cool anything down. In fact the second it hit the pavement it turned into steam rising from the ground. SIGH. From here we would move on to Nature’s Art Village which are the shops next to The Dinosaur Place.
I admit I don’t do too many eateries on this blog – but it’s not because I am not a foodie at heart, it’s just I usually can’t afford it. WELL, last night I was along for the ride and what a ride it was!
I have nothing against Warwick RI but it is a very busy built-up area humming with plazas filled with the usual chain stores and restaurants. Because of this I wasn’t expecting this new place to be any different but WOW… it was different alright!
The Tree House Tavern runs out of a repurposed 1800’s farmhouse which does in fact have a tree house out in the front yard. The parking lot is…. as a friend would say “Byzantine.” A real confusing jumble of possible parking spaces that somehow works. And once we popped out of the car and started to look around we realized just how odd and unique this place was. Set aside from a very busy roadway it was like we just fell down the proverbial rabbit hole. This didn’t look like anything else in the area. Bedecked with fairy lights to the hilt and supporting an odd country chic it beckoned us to come in. Inside the ceiling was absolutely plastered with brightly colored and open umbrellas mixed with other eccentric decorations. It was…. distracting but only in the most wonderful way.
We were given the choice of indoor or outdoor dining and we decided to go outside. It was a gorgeous evening after all. And so we found ourselves nestled outside amongst a series of little entertainment centers. Little firepits were everywhere, it looked like baskets full of snuggly blankets were on stock for chilly Autumn nights around these fires. There were several more private areas including a little patio with seating for a single couple. Flowers bloomed everywhere amongst even more fairy lights and chaotic decoration.
We sat down across from a somewhat judgmental deer head mounted on the wall of a little roofed outdoor area. Our waitress was young and perhaps a little new to the job but was excitable and happy. She handed us a menu and we gave it a once over. It didn’t have a whole lot of options but the ones that it did have were… something else. And what kind of food was on offer here? I guess my companion had it nailed with his description, “American Style Food Fuckery.” Pretty much the first thing I read was Sweet Potato Pizza and I was way too curious to even care what else was on there. I mean what on earth is a sweet potato pizza??? Meanwhile my companion was having a hard time deciding between a series of options which was made even more difficult when the waitress suggested a special of a crabcake surf and turf. Ultimately that’s what he chose and ended up with half a cow on his plate. No complaints here.
But first we had to try the appetizers! They had a plate of honey orange wings so we went for that, saying that maybe if they were good we’d come back and try the most adventurous appetizer on the menu – the peanut butter and jelly wings. We didn’t wait long at all before they were brought out and they were hands down the best wings I have ever eaten. And I am usually not a fan of wings (I mean there’s not a hell of a lot of meat on them.) They were crunchy, warm, delicious, and STICKY. Holy crap were they sticky! I had an ex once who would get pissed off with me for having sticky hands and this sort of thing would have made him flip right the fuck out. As such it gave a deep perverse joy to be making such a mess. That’s bliss right there. And the waitress was sweet enough to bring out some wet naps for after.
I could have walked out right then and there and been happy but no… there was more. As we waited for our entre I admit I was doing some eavesdropping of other guests and the absolutely bonkers conversations being had fit right in with the decor. My favorite was a whole discussion on a summer camp for horses where humans weren’t allowed and could only reach it by dirt bike after leaving their cars and horse trailers behind. A summer camp for horses. Now I’ve heard it all.
And then the waitress brought out a huge show and tell platter full of desserts to show some of the other patrons and I was just sitting there with my jaw agape. So many absolutely beautiful desserts to choose from! According to their website they rotated and changed depending on the mood of their baker on any given day (and SERIOUSLY how cool a job would that be to just bake whatever the fuck you want from day to day?? The freedom! The creativity!) Oooh lord, we’d have to save room for something delectable.
By the time our main course came out I was already having a wonderful time. My pizza was beautiful – a thin crusted prosciutto pizza with little cubes of sweet potato smattered about for some color and maybe to a lesser extent some flavor. My companion’s half a cow and a crabcake was also beautifully presented and he seemed to be enjoying it to the hilt.
We tried to eat slowly to save room but to be totally honest I was already mostly full from the appetizer! So I ate 2 slices of my pizza and waited for my belly to settle a bit. And when the dessert tray came out there was a lot to choose from – from a rather ordinary vanilla creme brulee, to a S’more cheesecake, to some sort of mutant whiskey filled chocolate ball, to some sweet little macaroons. I let my companion decide on something to share because honestly I would have accepted anything on that platter (save for the whiskey thing as I am not fond of the taste of booze. Yick!) We ended up with some sort of pink cake with green stuffing. It was a berry cake of some sort? I don’t know. It was cute looking and damn was it moist and delicious! Another win.
We were so full by the time we left I am pretty sure we were both waddling like penguins. And we had spent so much time there the mall closed. We’d actually came to run an errand at the mall – this…. was a distraction. A fantastic one at that!
ANYWAY. This was a delightful adventure. I’d HIGHLY recommend this place, especially if you’re looking for something “a little different.”
Fort Knox is never disappointing. It’s a HUGE complex with something for everyone. Not to be confused with the other more famous Fort Knox, this one doesn’t have any gold however it is named after the same guy so that’s something. It was built to protect the entrance to the river and was manned for two wars but never saw battle. And so it stands fulfilling a new purpose – scaring the bejesus out of small children generation after generation which is more than I can say for most museums!
And what is it that is so scary about this place? Well… they do say it’s haunted (though I have never seen any evidence of this on my own visits) but more importantly there are huge sections of the fort that are completely dark – no lighting except from slit windows – what feels like miles of corridors in near complete darkness. And there are also rooms and nooks off to the side which don’t see the light from the windows and are like black voids beckoning you in. It’s suggested you take a flashlight but where’s the fun in that?!
I don’t really recall there being that many dark areas on my last visit but I think I might have just missed them thinking there was nothing there. Another fun change was the fact a lot more of it was renovated so now the barracks were fairly well established with wooden floors and sparse furniture. But my favorite bit may have been the cannon kiln at the very beginning which I got right up to and looked directly into. It was basically a kiln to heat up cannon balls so they could be shot at passing ships and start them on fire. Nasty but interesting. I’d seen it before but never really poked at it up close – this would be my companion’s influence as he is far more interested in military history than I typically am and was reading all the plaques.
I had fun taking random snaps in the hopes of maybe catching an odd orb or two. No such luck! It’s still a GREAT place to practice photography if you’re learning about lighting! This is one of those destinations I suggest to everyone is who is going to be in the area. It really is a treasure.
This week we took our adventures to Maine where I had previously promised to share a few old favorites. One of these was another visit to Fort Knox but I neglected to mention this also would include a bonus ticket to go up to the observatory at the top of the bridge overlooking Fort Knox. It’s only a few dollars more to the purchase of a Fort Knox ticket and it never disappoints. But first I had to drive by the entrance and find myself parked at a roadside overlook of the bridge. I hadn’t taken the time to check this part of it out and it was really quite interesting! It had plaques with the history of the bridge and its predecessor as well as a few photos and a segment of bridge complete with wires which if you could walk up to from the observatory’s parking lot below. Also accessible from this point is a little access road which you can walk on to get under the bridge for an even more unique view.
Apparently, the original bridge replaced a ferry in the 1920’s and was a toll bridge. It was replaced with the current bridge in 2006 which now houses the tallest bridge observatory in the world and the only one in the US. Even better is that most of the journey upwards to see this fantastic view is by elevator. There’s a handful of stairs to get to the last level but that’s it. No gasping for air or clinging to the walls from vertigo as some of my other adventures have been! I was however surprised there was quite a line that day. It was a mix of locals and tourists, adults and children. I was happy to re-do this adventure with an actual professional camera this time and not the tiny cheap-o pre-cell phone digital camera I had at the time. There was even a boat heading up the river leaving quite a wake behind. This proved to be “a happy bonus” for the both of us. Looking directly down at the Prius parked below though… that was probably not the brightest idea but I was able to maneuver my cell phone in a way to catch the moment. Now I have photos of the Prius from every side except its underbelly!
Last week was just so completely random. I have no idea how I ended up at the bougiest corner of Rhode Island staring down the world’s most terrifying carousel while surrounded by ice cream lapping tourists but I’m not complaining…
Truth be told I desperately needed to be somewhere, anywhere, that was so completely and utterly different from my usual surroundings that I could just mentally check out for a while. You know what I mean. You feel it too. Well, I don’t live anywhere near the ocean so that fit the bill but really we went for the carousel and the lighthouse. The rest was just a cheerful bonus.
When I drove up it was definitely hoppin’. People were everywhere packing nearby beaches and perusing the shops and boutiques. It was like… going back in time… you know to the mid 1990’s, before the economy collapsed and people had vacations like this all the time! Parking was just an ever lovin’ joy to figure out as it was all parallel and pretty much full down the whole block. No worries after a 20-minute show with at least one horrified onlooker I was able to technically get the car within the lines. Technically. Then we walked!
This was the most touristy tourist trap I have ever seen in New England. Kids ran about with reckless abandon being ‘watched’ by their dads who were buying ice cream for the whole gaggle while their wives fucked off and enjoyed some sweet sweet alone time in the boutiques. There was even an antique store! Granted it was all nautical, just vaguely antique, and reminded me more of one of those Old Timey Country Stores with what it was selling. Just add some salt water to that country chic and you can picture it. I took some whimsical photos of random hanging trinkets.
And then we made our way to the carousel at the end. It was…. a thing of tremendous terror. Something that shall haunt my nightmares for years to come. Here they were selling tickets to ride the Merry Go Round $1 for the inner ring of horses, $4 for the outer ring and a chance to grab a gold ring to win a free ride. Now as fucking amazing as I find all that truly obsolete Americana I was a little trepidatious for the poor children on this machine who were whipping around that thing at great speeds, so much so the horses were at full tilt, their wee hooves kicking the air towards the onlookers at the sides. It made my heart skip a few beats. And the horses. Oh my God, the horses. I have no words to describe just how blood curdling creepy they were. They are supposed to be America’s longest continuously running Merry Go Round built in 1867 and “mysteriously abandoned” at Watch Hill in 1883 by a travelling carnival which… makes sense for a bunch of ponies that look like they could suck out your soul. I’m told each one of them still has it’s original eyes which is some sort of stone… but really it makes them all look like they have milky white cataracts and combined with their over all grizzled appearance I wouldn’t be surprised if they were the zombie horses of the apocalypse. They look the part. Every time I found one that just had to be the most unnerving another one would pop up behind it that made me gasp even more. Left me in a real pickle to find a favorite.
You may ask, “Did you ride the scary pony death machine?” No, no, I did not. The horses on this carousel are very small, clearly just for children unlike today’s carousels with life-size horses (or steam punk monsters if I remember the one I once saw in Brussels, Belgium right…) And I mean if I were a kid I probably would have loved hanging on for dear life as I spun wildly out of control trying to catch a gold ring as I went by. I mean that’s just good old fashioned family fun. Right? RIGHT?
Well anyway, there was a beach right next to the carousel with plenty of people sunning and swimming and having a grand old time. We decided to shun it in favor of walking up a nearby side street to see the lighthouse which I guess is only open for a short time every year – a short time that didn’t include that day. But it was still technically a park so we went to at least poke at it. This was my companion’s first lighthouse so he was impressed. I was amused by the mansions lining the drive it was on (especially the one with the witch weather vane) but the lighthouse itself was intensely meh for me. Maybe I’m just jaded having gone to so many. Either way it did seem to be a nice fishing spot and a few people were here doing exactly that and enjoying this gorgeous summer day.
All and all it was a nice way to spend an hour or two and the carousel made it 100% worth it because it was just soooo weird. Everything else was just a cherry on the terrifying carousel cake.
