Another day, another fantastically unending antique mall, filled to the brim with anything and everything my twisted heart could desire. This shop used to be an old roller skating rink but now hosts a great number of different vendors. In typical Maine fashion you will find lots and lots of random junk probably collected by a hoarder, tons of truly bizarre folk art and oddities, and the occasional tasteful antique for an equally tasteful price. This is one of my favorite places to hit when I am up here because it’s always full to the brim and the people are always charming and friendly (that goes for the customers as much as it does the dealers!)
Sooooo….. what did I find today? Well, it started with this delightfully demonic cat lamp…
“LOOK UP!” my mother kept yelling at me. “WHY?! Is something about to fall on me?!” No, there’s just a horrified baby doll hawking cigarettes up there.
Speaking of demonic cats…. This one is made out of “Real feline goat hair.” It’s as surprised as we are.
Maine is a great place to go if you collect racist black history artifacts. Most antique stores usually have a piece or two but Maine doesn’t hide them in the back room… This one struck me as even more “off” than usual! It reads, “My it shure am sweet!”
Then this was nearby. “HOLY SHIT, a black doll that looks human….” Carved from wood this was by far the least terrifying doll on offer.
Then I found this white doll shitting itself making a pouty face. Can’t really blame it. It was cuddled up with a black baby doll… and well… hatred is learned people!
Which brings me to this “topsy turvy doll….” which I think is some sort of liberal’s idea of teaching their kids equality…. but really, at the end of the day, it’s just a naked bi-racial conjoined twin from the Twilight Zone.
Here we have a nun converting all the heathen native children… and Batman. Because Batman is totally cool with that sort of thing.
Heeeeey, it’s Burger King…. before the make-over….. just WOW….
And then I came across this little orange haired clown doll… and I actually thought it was kind of cute. Everyone else was screaming in horror.
“LOOK UP! It’s Bugs Bunny!” I don’t believe that for a second. Why is the carrot glowing like that??
This sophisticated pig says you’re made of bacon.
This little white doll has been kidnapped and dressed in the garb of an Indian. Now he’s sad.
AHHH! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD KILL IT!!
Fun trivia fact: Little Miss Muffet was the daughter of a notorious entomologist who bred deadly deadly spiders in his lab.
Remember when Steamboat Willie got Bloat? Yeah, me either.
The look of absolute disgust on this little gent’s face… it’s almost like he heard another doll reciting the original version of Catch a Tiger by the Toe….
Here’s a bunch of African animals lined up behind a meat grinder.
I don’t know what heinous crime this little fella just committed but whatever it was I think I’m OK with it.
This elk looks a little too chill to be dead. He’s like someone’s reincarnated prankster uncle…
Now welcoming the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Doll. Limited granny edition.
I remember when I was a child I loved cuddling into bed to listen to my mother read me Snow White and the Demonic Squirrel...
Slightly morbid, Joe. Slightly morbid.
Hey! Look! It’s me fucking around!
Again I am not sure who this is supposed to be offending. It looks like a Mariachi band led by a really fat Native American woman…?
GNOMES!!! I know what you’re saying, “You’re terrified of dolls but you love gnomes?!” YES, YES I DO. And not just because their great grand daddy is supposed to be Priapus the ever-erect Greek God of Embarrassing ER Visits.Â
Remember when Irish Catholics weren’t considered “white.” *whistles*
PIXIES! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!
I’m not sure what just happened in this little scene…. but that little boy is crying and I feel like I need a shower.
What can still suck out your soul that isn’t a haunted doll? A haunted painting of a child…. I would not hang this in my house if you paid me.
Mother: “Look a gay couple!”
Me: “THOSE ARE BUTLERS.”
I don’t know what “gall salve” is but I question the legitimacy of rubbing it on my horse.
Here’s the Prince of Maine… in case you’re wondering…. Maine totally had a prince once and this is Him. His reign was toppled when the schoolyard bully smudged mud on his velvety suit and made him eat worms.
I’m always amused by the random unnamed photos in antique stores. This one isn’t even that old. There’s probably some guy out there, we’ll call him Dave, that is wandering by going, “HEY! THAT’S FUCKING ME! WHY IS MY PHOTO HANGING IN AN ANTIQUE STORE?!”
I don’t know who this little darling is either…. but I don’t trust her….
GAWD, those pixies are everywhere!! Going to have to invest in some Fairy Spray.
Betty Boop WOULD NEVER.
A surprisingly noble stuffed turkey…
Ever had a significant other that kept lamenting, “You make me want to shoot myself!” This is the perfect gift for them. Caffeine and guns. Can’t go wrong.
I have no idea why the scalp of Charlie Chaplin and some random Mountie are 50% off… but that seems like a deal!
Another probably haunted painting… Can you get higher insurance rates on things that are possessed?
Giggling. Killer. Corn.
Finally, this pooch is guaranteed to work better than an actual guard dog…
After being laid up for two days with a migraine I was just about crawling out of my skin this morning, desperate to go somewhere, anywhere. I’m still in central Maine with my mother and she’s still none too keen on going for a hike in 85 degree weather soooo I offered to bring her to a museum, which I figured had to be climate controlled. Usually I drive but since we were so close anyway, and she does need practice driving, I climbed into the passenger seat and off we went.
It was an uneventful drive until we were almost there. Then the GPS insisted we had to go down Rangeley Road to get there. Only problem was the road was closed due to construction. So I took the GPS down, zoomed out, and found an alternate route through the college campus. It was, after all, a museum on the college campus. And wow. I don’t want to sound critical but all I ever knew of Central Maine was poverty and a lack of education, so to stumble upon such a crazy expansive campus here, nestled in such a well kept little town…. well I was shocked. This was not the Maine I grew up with. I must have fallen through the Twilight Zone again.
The museum has a range of art and utilitarian items from the native peoples of both North and South America, everyone from the Inuits of Canada all the way down to the Mayan and Aztec Empires. It was actually quite impressive! Funerary dolls, textiles, baskets, and a series of interactive displays for children that my mother kept herself entertained with (as she forgot her reading glasses at home and couldn’t read any of the plaques anyway.) They even had a bunch of South American dress up clothing and a wee wigwam. OK, even I went inside that one… Because when else do you get to play a wigwam? All and all it was a lovely little trip and was happily surprised. If you’re in the area and into museums its well worth a look!
Today’s little adventure started with the usual – this time it was my mother trying to figure out where this pretty bridge she kept seeing on FaceBook was located. It claimed to be in Pittsfield Maine, the town she grew up in, but she had no recollection of it. This isn’t unusual for my mother…. she’s the sweetest woman you’ll ever meet but she has the attention span of a gnat. On several occasions in the past I had to inform her her cousins were the offspring of her aunt who she swore up and down was a childless spinster. And so it goes… A week of speculation on a bridge…
As it turns out there is indeed a snow mobile bridge in Manson Park, right past the center of town. It claims to be the longest pedestrian suspension bridge over the river but I can’t for the life of me figure out if it has a name or who put it there. Oh well! The mystery continues!
I have been to Manson Park many times over the years, always during the big Egg Festival. It’s a really nice park with a full baseball diamond (complete with dug out) a public swimming pool, several play ground type areas, some scenic picnic spots near the river, and lots and lots of open space to run wild and free on. Honestly this park is better than most city parks I have seen. STILL, I had no idea what this whole damn bridge debate was about so I herded my mother in the car and off we went.
I parked in the lot aside the river and it didn’t take me long at all to locate the bridge. I could see it, though I was uncertain how to get there, I knew I could because there were two women sitting out there chillin’. I walked alongside the river until I couldn’t anymore and found a footpath through the grass not far away which led into the woods and onto the bridge.
THIS BRIDGE IS MENTAL. No seriously, it’s proper scary. It’s a long suspension bridge weighted down on both sides by trees. Trees which, mind you, had grown in the past 30+ years and who were literally being slowly cut down by the wires… This DIY Maine engineering is common out here but always scares the crap out of me. Getting onto the bridge was no better. It swayed and swung in the breeze, lurching back and forth and wobbling heavier with every step. The two women chilling noticed us walking out and they walked off…. they probably know something we don’t. By the time I got to the sections that were missing boards I was more than a little unnerved. If you’ve ever seen the video of 
All that being said it was gorgeous! And attached to a trail on either side which led god knows where… I made my way up to the train tracks before turning around… 85 degree weather will put a damper on anyone’s desire to explore! All and all this was totally worth it… if not just to be grateful for being alive…
Since I was already in the area cooing at my submersible friends at 
I don’t think there’s anyone reading this blog that has done so since the very beginning, back when it was called Chasing Marbles, not Catching Marbles, but if you have you’d know that one of the very first stops I took before going cross country was a little salt water shop in Fairfield Maine called AquaCorals. I was so new to blogging I didn’t even have a camera! So I decided to go back and see what my macro lens could do and see how it was going.
Also I brought some friends, who wanted to come along and see what the hell I was talking about…. trained fish…. We were warmly welcomed and my crew got quite an education! From filtration, to healthy bacteria, to end of life fish care, the shop owner was happy to share. She also let us see her trained fish do a couple tricks, swooshing from side of the tank to the other and twirling on command. I smiled. One of the trained fish was a Yellow Tang, much like the one who died on me a few years ago and took piece of my heart with him. RIP Mr. Yellow. It was a very lovely trip down memory lane, back to when I was into all this stuff. Now I came only with a camera and a smile but you know what? It was super relaxing and a wonderful way to spend an otherwise unbearably hot afternoon. I even made peace with an old enemy – the starfish. Starfish really freak me out but the feather star I found there was actually pretty charming!
I went through the whole shop, which for Maine is quite extensive. She had some very beautiful corals, all super healthy, and the fish were bright and rambunctious as well. Sadly the fish didn’t like my camera much and hid and the corals were lit with a lighting my camera wasn’t used to so most of the photos came out crazy blurry. Moral of the story? I’m a shitty photographer. Just kidding, the moral of the story is I should really go back and try again with a regular lens… or read the manual and figure out what I am doing wrong…. but who does that?
After taking as many photos as my heart desired I returned to gaze upon some very vibrant zooanthids and talked for a while longer. I asked if she had any mantis shrimp knocking about which is a bit like going to a sheep farm and asking where the wolves are at but I can’t help what my heart desires! And I do love mantis shrimp! Despite the fact they are 
Well! As it turns out there’s a bunch of things going on in Maine I should really be up here for so last Thursday I packed up my car and braved five hours of dragon’s breathe (fog) to get to central Maine. I’ll be up here for a couple weeks…. getting into trouble and whatnot. So far it’s been wonderful. I took a photo of the dragon’s breathe and a new friend I found in the yard this morning. I’m calling him Tom.
Today’s little adventure was to a Steampunk Craft Fair and Festival in Dexter. For those of you not in the know Dexter is a tiny town smack dab in the middle of nowhere and a damn strange place to have such a thing…. which is obviously what made me want to go. It’d either be amazing, or amazingly bad, either way I’m happy! So off I went! (I was however not ballsy enough to attend the costume party at the adjoining bar the night before… Not that I had anything to wear on such short notice.)
I must say it is HOT and MUGGY today… and the little festival in the middle of the parking lot around the old factory building. TO my surprise there were a lot of people dressed up! Most were vendors, and the live music, but I think a few were just nutballs like me. I wasn’t totally dressed down – I did wear my octopus shirt which looks very Jules Verne-esque. And someone did compliment it… I think he was trying to say it looked like Cthulhu.
Anyway, I was happily surprised with the diversity here. There were a lot of crafters, a lot of gears, a lot of keys, all glued on masks, tiles, earrings, you name it. Even talked to one young woman making her own chainmail. Seriously. Hand-made chain mail. I asked where the hell she picked up that skill…. she said her school taught it. Wow. Maybe if my school were that interesting growing up I wouldn’t have prayed so hard for the building to “blow down in one good gust,” as one of the teachers lamented, “That’s all it’d take! One good gust!”
Of course I also went in the hopes of seeing local authors. I wasn’t disappointed. I ended up buying three books, all signed, for $35. One was a collection of short stories, another was some sort of whimsical fiction, and the third was a graphic novel which I am not known for buying but it looked so damn detailed… the woman who inked and wrote that one said she was used to doing comic con type circuits, indoors. I could see that. Everyone was super friendly and very passionate, what I would hoped to find in such a gathering. For the dead center of Nowheresville Maine I think this was pulled off pretty well! Especially for the first year in doing this. Maybe next year I’ll return as a vendor!
Recently I decided I should start going to more extroverted places on the weekend, maybe quirky little mom and pop shops, museums, or festivals, leaving my more isolated hikes into the woods or cemeteries for weekdays. There’s always more things to share about New England after all! Every time I feel like I have scraped the bottom of the barrel I always find way more! And so it was that a few days ago I got a fantastic lead – the Tiny House Fest in Brattleborro Vermont, an annual event right dead in the center of this adorable little Vermont town filled with vendors, educational lectures, and thirty tiny houses from all over the country. You could visit the vendors and walk for free, pay $15 to go on a self guided tour of the tiny houses, or pay $25 and have access to all that plus the lectures going on all day in three separate areas. Since this is a subject of great interest to me I splurged on educating myself. $25 and some gas for Daisy, off we go!
My mother decided that morning she wanted to go with me, which is fine, I did ask if she wanted to accompany me as she loves the tiny houses too. It was supposed to have intermittent thunderstorms and downpours all day, which I think kept the faint of heart away. Not me! I struggled to find parking because I am not familiar with Brattleborro and ended up going into town around noon when most of the festival goers were also seeking parking. So I drove up and down main street, in my heavily Sharpied car, probably about five times before I figured out what I was doing and found a suitable parking space. It’s Vermont. My crazy car and neon orange hair barely lift an eye brow here (which is probably why I adore the area so much…) Of course the second I pull in it starts to POUR. I mean hurricane level rain, washing people down the hills… SIGH. I got out, pulled up my hoodie, handed my mother the umbrella, and tried to pay for my space. The machine had other ideas and would not accept my card, or my mother’s. I had to go back to the car, drenched, and rustle around for change. Thank God it was cheap. Thirty cents an hour. Now that’s a price I didn’t mind paying!
Off I went. We first toured all the tiny houses and it was an impressive assortment I must say. Some were just shells, some were completely tricked out, some were built onto trailers, some were in buses and vans, and some were big enough to feel like actual normal houses. The innovation was wonderful! People formed polite ques outside of each and poked in with the same burning curiosity I had. Often the makers of these homes stood somewhere along the way and spoke to people who may have had questions. Several of them I was really impressed with.
From here I attended a few lectures. I learned about a crazy variety of things: the many uses of pee, how to garden under solar panels so that arable land isn’t wasted, how to bring a town back to life with “pop up” stores carried in vans, much about community organization, much about teaching others, as well as how people can live in a bus or a van, and an ungodly amount of information on the construction of a gypsy wagon styled travel home that had my eyes glassed over for the entire half an hour.
