I was going to start my Busting Out of New England 2026 tour in chronological order buuuut…. then time went by and now my ADHD is forcing me to start with a more exciting option just to get going. So I am going to start with The Bigfoot Museum! It was one of the places we wanted to check out before going down south. We stayed with my companion’s relatives and bless their hearts they drove us everywhere that week and fed us reeeeeeally well. We in return added a little zaniness to their lives by bringing them to this… whimsical little museum. Honestly it was what I thought the International Cryptozoology Museum in Maine would be like before we checked that place out. You know, small and very wacky, and being run by a single individual with a single special interest (which there’s nothing wrong with that!)
As you can see the outside was painted up with murals and all sorts of fun imagery. Seeing as it was also in the middle of nowhere there was no missing this place. The owner claims he gussied the place up to be as outrageous as possible because some of the locals were none too keen on being seen as that town with all the bigfoot stuff. I love to hear about these petty grievances and just about died when he said he ran and won a mayorship of the town just so he could do this to his building. Now that’s dedication!
When you first walk into the museum you are greeted with a rack of bigfoot and alien related Hawaiian T-shirts which was just so on point. It was a really small place, one room just packed with stuff. There were of course castings of various bigfoot tracks, the traditional token Fuji mermaid, and all sorts of haunted dolls which was a fun surprise. I didn’t know this would be dipping into the paranormal, I was just looking for some fuzzy photos of something big and furry in the woods, as one does. But no, he had an episode of one of those ghost hunting shows he was on playing in the background and at one point I knocked over a camera which I tried to place back in position but apparently it wasn’t pointed at the people wandering in who could steal something. It was supposed to be pointed at a doll. Whhhhhy, you may ask, as I did. Because it’s a haunted doll and it was recently caught giggling. He had the audio! Which he of course shared with us and yes, that was some damn creepy giggling.
I don’t know what made all the dolls haunted or where they came from. They all just looked like regular dolls to me. But what I do wonder is if he wasn’t spurning a tiny demi-god into existence by believing so hard that they were haunted that they manifested a doll possession. The Latin word for something that is manifested into existence simply by having enough people believe in it is an egregor. And now you too can be the nerdiest one at the table to know this.
Other fun attractions included a haunted hay hook, first I’ve ever seen, and a random wall of serial killer victims which I guess someone was trying to solve who their killer was. Random, but I appreciate the desire to be helpful.
My companion’s relatives seemed a bit lost here but luckily they just seemed happy we were enjoying this place. There was a bunch of ghost and bigfoot hunting equipment there including a dish that could help you hear tiny sounds from really far away and the usual paranormal tool kit – EMF readers and whatnot. I took a little laser pen light that maps a green grid all around you to help see the spooks. Since buying it I have only used it to torment the cat but if I do see a ghost in there I shall be sure to tell you!
So was this museum worth the visit? I think if you’re weird or live in the area it’s a great place. Definitely is a niche audience though!
Hi all! How is everyone doing this year? I hope you are well. I know I have not been around and some of you may be wondering why. Don’t worry, nothing too serious, I was just a smidge burned out from *gestures vaguely at everything* and dealing with some fun issues at home like a dislocated shoulder! Never pick a fight with a wet kitchen floor is all I’m saying. ANYWAY… despite this blog making me look super tech savvy and competent I am absolutely not when it comes to computer-y things and that’s the biggest reason I’ve been away. I stopped being able to upload photos here through my phone or computer and…. had no idea where to go from there or even what words to use to ask the right question in my favorite search engines. Though I do think I found a workaround, probably not one any technician would have suggested, but hey, I’m running on duct tape and user manuals from 1983, I’m doing my best!
Of course while this was all going down I took a trip down south and went to various amazing restaurants and eateries in North Carolina as well as a quick stop to Hershey Pennsylvania and Gettysburg, all of which have been sitting here waiting for me to finish their many blog entries for Busting Out of New England 2.0. And I continued to do a few trips in my usual locale when my energy was good. Suffice to say there’s a huge backlog and I am going to try to post two blog entries a day (one from my trip down South and one more local) until I have posted them all.
Thank you so much for your love and support. I cannot tell you how much I miss hearing from you since I quit FaceBook. For your continued patience in reading this I offer you this weird little sunflower that I found at Monadnock Berries. If you really love it I’ve also added a Buy Me a Coffee button on this blog to help it going during these ungodly gas prices and whatnot. As of yet no one has clicked it. Are you the brave little toaster that wants to try it first? I triple-dog dare you. And if not, I still love you just the same. Happy travels!
My companion’s interest in military history is not one I share and if I am to be brutally honest this is not a destination I would have chosen on my own. Though I respect that WWII happened I didn’t really feel like spending an afternoon reminding myself what shitheads the human race can be especially when my faith in it has already been floundering. But sometimes you just take one for the team… and end up pleasantly surprised.
When we drove up there was a sign for a cobbler sharing the window with the museum entrence posters. My companion looked at me and inquired, “Is this going to be another Titanic Museum, tucked away in the back room behind a shop?” There was only one way to find out.
Inside we were immediately welcomed by multiple staff members (i.e. this place wasn’t run by some lone weirdo out of his basement, which is sorta what I was expecting…) Apparently this place was actually run by a bunch of documentarians who had done a crap-ton of documentaries on various subjects relating to World War II. Some of them were playing as we walked through, others were being offered on a free DVD for patronizing the museum. We were asked if we wanted a guide and we said that was alright, we can poke around by our lonesome. We were then led through the screamy machine (otherwise known as a metal detector.) Not 100% sure if that was to prevent nutjobs from bringing in weapons or sneaking out with them… either way I was only armed with a purse with a metal zipper and had no desire whatsoever to cuddle a grenade within it.
This is when we were met with an army of mannikins, all dressed in various uniforms from the era representing different countries. As I looked closer I noticed some of the mannikins had fake eye lashes on them and one had a Sharpie doodled mustache that was supposed to look like Clarke Gable. I couldn’t contain my snicker at this and of course that’s when a teenage boy appeared, asking us if we’d like a guide. At first we politely declined but then he told us he could “set some things off” if we wanted, a phrase that wasn’t in any way alarming. With raised eye brows and no sense of personal safety we relented and let the teenage boy bring out a big noise maker which he wound until it whirred and screamed. Cool.
I may have wandered off at this point to do some subtle poking on my own. I found a small collection of photos that were the aftermath of the Holocaust. Just stacks of emaciated dead bodies. Honestly, I was expecting more of these soul-crushing images but instead I was met more with a gentle curiosity as in the same area there was a display of folk art made by concentration camp prisoners. For me this is where the connection is, where you find the humanity in the clouds of cruelty. I wandered back to my companion and the guide boy just as he was pointing out Blondie the German Shepard’s diamond swastika bedazzled collar. She belonged to Hitler. I wondered what she did in a previous life to deserve that. “So we’re sending you back to earth as man’s best friend.” “Awesome!” “And your man will be Hitler.” “Seriously?!” As you can see I have taken it upon myself to be ahead of the censors and cover all the swastikas here on out with a begrudgingly AI created poodle because despite having drawn a weekly comic for two and a half years I apparently have forgotten everything I ever learned about how to operate illustration software. SIGH.
After this we wandered with our youthful guide through various rooms with him handing us various grenades, shells, and other implements of war. Eventually we stopped by a mannikin of a Romanian woman in “camouflage” which looked remarkably similar to a floral bedspread. I joked to my companion, with my usual deadpan expression, “It’s not working.” This completely threw our poor guide off as he squeaked, “Why would you say that?” “because I can still see her… I was being silly…” At this point our guide started breathing again and apologized saying he’s autistic and sometimes doesn’t get jokes. I should have probably said it’s OK, I’m also autistic and remember very much what it was like being your age and constantly confused but I didn’t. I just smiled. That’s really all the spoons I had at that moment.
After this our guide got to talking about all sorts of things completely unrelated – horror movies, Disney rides, zombies. Apparently we’d gained his trust. And when we got back on track? Well, that’s when things kinda devolved a bit. First we noticed a heinously racist poster and read it… it was a grotesquely caracturized Japanese man thanking the US troops for not wearing condoms and spreading VD. I guess our guide boy, who had been familiar with most things here, had never looked that hard at this really messed up piece of satire. Honestly, the most racist relics I’ve ever come across on our travels always tend to be anti-Japanese propaganda from WWII. Our boy stuttered a bit as I just commented it was almost as uncomfortable to look as the Donald Duck reel telling soldiers about the horrors of venereal disease.
This wouldn’t be the first or the last time we gave our guide a run for his money. In another room he showed us plastic leeches and snakes hanging off one jungle-beaten manniken but I saw something more interesting peering down at us from a case above my head: a little brick-a-brac of a gleeful infant riding a bomb. “Why is there a baby riding a bomb?” “What? Oh my god, I never noticed that before. What does it say on it?” I looked back at my photo. It read, “Hatched in the USA.” This did not make it any better. More nervous laughter.
Then things really toppled into the weird as we found a case befitting a collection from the Shame Wizard. I’d always though that Nazi dildos were a joke. Nope… here we were face to face with a distressingly wooden dildo with Hitler’s face carved into it. Guess there’s something for everyone here I muttered under my breath. Personally, I couldn’t figure out if the obscene shape of it was more offensive or the fact it could give you splinters. Maybe you’d deserve splinters for that one, I don’t know. I couldn’t help but think about that one manniken in a SS uniform with this crazy shocked expression on his face. I feel like he knew.
And onward we continued to a whole corner of anti-Hitler folk art and propaganda. Really odd things over there, including a little Hitler manniken that our guide boy said no one knew much about but he supposed it was broken because the hand on it was not in the correct position for the Nazi salute it was attempting. This is where us oldies started to feel a bit bad because we couldn’t not tell this poor boy that no, this doll was not broken. It was giving a limp-wristed salute quite purposely. “Oooooh! Like he’s… gay?! I did NOT know that!” Course, then my companion couldn’t help pointing out the pin cushion shaped like Hitler bending over with pins jutting out of his ass. I sighed as the guide boy had another epiphany. This train was thoroughly derailed. And never have I felt older or queerer than in this moment. But I suppose there are worse things.
After this we cycled through on our own again noting different things other than the artillery we got to handle with our guide. I really appreciated a cute little summer dress apparently made by a French woman out of a food supplies parachute. One point for resourceful upcycling. And so we concluded our tour.
When in Rome (or Glouster) you might as well hit an antique store or two. This one was a typical Main Street antique store – small, well organized, suited particularly for tourists wandering by.
This was one was a bit unique in all the posters and vinyls of musicals. Otherwise there was a jewelry case with some nice shinies in it, the usual bricabracs, a few ransom pieces of art including a bag crochetted from recycled grocery store bags, a terrifying portrait of a cat, and some wooden masks.
It was small but enjoyable, a fun jaunt if you’re already gambling down Main Street.
So after checking out The Paper House we wandered a few houses down the street to see what Cynthia Curtis Pottery was all about. Again, we drove up to a random house and parked in the small parking area at the bottom of the driveway. We got out having no idea where to go from there. That’s when a woman hopped out of the house and said the shed was open and she’d be out in a moment.
So inside we went. There were lovely big mugs hanging on the door and inside the shed there was all sorts of gorgeous very stylized pottery. Much of it had texture, which I’d later learn were imprints of her grandmother’s lace. It was mostly in blues and greens and gave a wonderful beachy vibe.
I hate going to these little artist places and not supporting it somehow so I chose a little ornament to go home with after chatting with Cynthia for a while. It was a jellyfish made from small pieces of melted beach glass which was incorporated into a lot of the pottery here. I was also told she holds pottery classes here and had been at this for 30 years. It’s always nice to see someone who has made their passions work for them. I only wish I could have been a little more convincingly social but my brain was mush from two hours of driving in traffic and I was already having one of those days (week really) where eye contact was too much to bear. Better luck next time?
This one had been on my list for a long time because it was so odd. And the entrance fee was only $3 a head. Win.
I didn’t actually know where Rockport was. On the other side of Boston of course… so we did that whole fun trip right through the city and all the traffic but luckily it wasn’t that bad on this spring day. When we got to the Paper House it was in a residential neighborhood that was littered with signs reading no parking on this side of the street.
The sign was outside a regular house and up a small city driveway. Was I supposed to go in the driveway??? Could I park on the street?? The driveway had two parking spots, one had what I asumed was the home owner’s car in it. I parked in the other one and we walked awkwardly up the driveway wondering what was going to happen from here. Would we have to ring someone’s doorbell or ring a number? We walked up to the building on the property that read Paper House and looked in the windows. Yep, it was the paper house. It took us a minute to find a sign stating the door was unlocked and we could go in. There was an honor box outside to leave our entry fees.
This place was really small but fun. We were clearly the only ones there. In the structure the walls were decorated with folded paper in the style of “tramp art,” which was common in the 1920’s when these pieces were made. There were chairs, a table, a piano, and a grandfather clock, all decorated with rolls of paper. The information given was that these were made as an experiment to see how long print paper (in this case newspapers) could hold up if varnished and used to make things. There was no explanation as to WHY this experiment was going on, only that it was the homeowner’s grandfather who started in with this quirky hobby in the 1920’s. Some postcards sat out for souvenirs if you wanted to pay an extra 35 cents.
There was also a few pamphlets on other cool places to go in the area including a pottery shed just a few houses down. We’d continue our explorations there. This was a quirky little side quest and if you’re int he area I deffinately think you should give it a little lookey-loo. Otherwise, on it’s own, this probably wasn’t enough for me to say it’s worth any sort of drive, especially through Boston traffic! However, there’s lots of other stuff to do in the area that may make it worth it.
I know we have hit Stillwater Antiques numerous times by now but it’s a fun one! Always something new every time we go. It’s big and ever evolving. Though this time around there were more empty booths than usual and I hope this isn’t going to be a continuing pattern that I’ve seen kill other antique malls… especially in this economy. Here’s hoping they stay in fine shape through it all!
On this particular day it was a treasure trove of terrifying dolls and mushroom swag as well as a new booth which had a jacket reading, “Have the day you deserve” which is the current mood these days! So enjoy the gallery below!
My travel companion’s need for novelty is what ended up making him pick something unusual for this particular destination. I’d seen it on lists of places to go before but I was a little unsure what it actually was and if it was worth the long drive to Connecticut. It was however only $5 per adult ticket so why not go and see?
This place was something else. Driving there was interesting. It was easy enough to find but the sign aside the road looked small and very aged and the driveway really looked like it was bringing me to a household. There were two small parking lots each big enough for four or five cars. To my surprise this was two buildings, not one, and the property around the building seemed to have cut outs and other fun things to take photos with.
We ended up walking into the gift shop which is where the tickets are purchased. Another family was getting attended to so the woman working the counter told us to go have fun checking out the gift shop and the adjoined gallery and she’d take our money when we were finished. The gift shop was darling. Dr Suess taxidermy lined the walls, to the other side there was a lot of little Disney things and other very recognizable cartoon merch. The gallery was also a lot of fun and a lot larger than it looked at first. It was several rooms and hallways filled with stills, paintings, and prints of every iconic cartoon figure you could think of from Betty Boop to Jack Skeleton. As well as some I didn’t recognize. It was a fun little jaunt down memory lane. I especially appreciated the one of a kind pieces of art, some of which were more 3D than you’d expect of a cartoon with layers of paint or paper to make them more interesting. All of it was for sale – for some hefty serious collector prices.
When we finished we circled back around, got our tickets, and then headed outside to the other building which was the actual museum and oh my god, this place was OVERWELMING! There were display cases against every wall and creating numerous isles. They went from the floor to over our heads and even the ceiling had every inch of it decorated with hanging cartoon characters.
I had come here expecting Disney and WB characters but this place had everything. And it was all organized into sections. There’d be a case of Popeyes, some Wizard of Oz stuff, a gaggle of creepy puppets, and a pile of my childhood phobia: Teletubbies. Those were out, you could totally boop them. As a child I only saw still photos of Teletubbies in the news. I had no idea until recently they’re HUGE and talk like possessed baby dolls. I was re-traumatized.
ANYWAY, as we looked around we found all sorts of delightful things – Mork and Mindy, Animaniacs, Felix the Cat, Betty Boop’s entire disturbing squad (including that goddamn clown) and another childhood favorite the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Every INCH of this place had something. There were just layers and layers. And no cartoon was forgotten, they even had cartoons that existed only as brand mascots – Betsy the Cow, the scrubbing bubbles brush, Big Boy, Cracker Jack, and the M & M’s. And as is usual for this blog there was also an alarming amount of ventriloquist dummies. Each creepier than the last.
Sometimes I dream of owning a house, a house with a guest room, a house with a guest room full to the brim with haunted dolls. It’d be exposure therapy for me as I find them terrifying and would also be hilarious to use as a bet. You want to come visit ME? THEN YOU SLEEP WITH THE DOLLS. If you make it the night I’ll give you a prize, if you end up on the couch I will tease you until your last dying day.
This museum looks like it probably started in a similar fashion to the Scrubs-like fantasy I wrote out above. Clearly this was someone’s collections which got way out of hand and thank goodness it did because it was an absolute joy to visit. More so I think I could probably go there again, even several more times, and see something different each time. This was totally worth the drive for any children or children at heart.
Oh, and the distressing cow I took a photo of for the header of this entry? That’s Betsy. If I am to believe her plaque she was once more popular than Mickey Mouse. Her job was to sell dairy which apparently, she did very well! And now… she’s just a statue in a creepy photo that could be the cover of a horror movie. Bless.
It’s been a crazy messed up year, hasn’t it? I get the feeling anyone with an iota of common sense knows what’s going on right now is not normal and not good. But the mainstream media has been SILENT on this fact actively shutting down any reports that aren’t fawning and positive toward the current leadership. It’s like living in a madhouse. You see reality and yet reality is gaslighting the shit out of you right back. It can be an isolating experience but I don’t think we should let it be.
As we were about to leave Twice Upon a Time Treasures a great fuss and noise kicked up outside. The noise continued to clatter as we made our way out into the streets. It was a protest – a few individuals, probably origional happiest, dressed in mourning attire carrying a cardboard casket labeled “democracy.” It was a small, short, and sweet protest but it kicked up A LOT of car horn honks and for me served to charge my batteries in regards to hope. Who knew a month or so later I’d be able to witness millions coming out to shout the same sentiment. I suppose this is another reason why I love Vermont so much.
