Antique Marketplace Putney Connecticut

It seems like every time I feel like we’ve seen it all something else pops up that’s amazing and weird and 100% worth the long drive. That’s what happened when we drove up to yet another antique store (waiting for the warm weather to open up some outside options.)

We’d been to so many antique stores but this one was settled in the center of an old mill city and was HUUUUGE and clearly not what this space was originally used for. It meandered for what seemed miles with weird nooks, corners, rooms, entire whole floors, and the antiques were absolutely bonkers. SO MUCH WEIRD.

We stopped by this salt and pepper shaker shaped like a monk and a nun and my companion asked, “Why does it look like a pod person whose soul has been sucked out?” I couldn’t hold back the nervous half-triggered laugh of some one whose watched and been scarred by The Dark Crystal.

The day had been full of our fun little games: How Racist is this? You Know What a ____ Looks Like Right? And of course, What the Fuck is That?! My companion has roped in a gaggle of D&Ders to enjoy these games with us, taking photos and sharing them to long distance giggles and bewilderment. Initially what started all this was the fact this place was full to the brim with nightmare fuel.

I have become accustomed to haunted dolls but even I was alarmed to find a set of toddler twins still in their perspective boxes, complete with a menacing grin, more than a little side eye and their own bundle of red balloons looking like twin baby Its. Stephen King would be proud.

The creepy dolls were endless. There were ancient dolls with cracked faces, doll heads in tea cups, and even a cabbage patch doll head – sold separately from its body! I never knew they were sometimes sold by the head.

But there was also a ton of terrifying masks and paper mache creations that’d put the fear of Piñata in you. It was also a day for chasmatic chairs – including a solid mahogany shitter. The label said “throne.” This was near a three foot tall anthropomorphic poodle holding a serving tray, a pancaked pheasant on a wall mount, a candle holder that was actually half a gold horse leaping out of the wall, and painting I could only describe as, “A conversation piece.” To which my companion retorted, “Yeah, if you want every conversation to start with ‘What the fuck is that?!'”

We were in this one mall for hours. I kinda wish I was a picker and knew what I was looking at… or had a house and some money to invest in some more conversation pieces. Someday I’ll have a home of my own, at the end of a dirt road, and half the town’s children will think I’m a witch. Their parents will tell them to stay away from my house after walking into it one day and realizing a huggable baby baphomet sitting above the coat rack was the most normal thing they saw there. I look forward to this. To being “eccentric.”

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Purgatory Chasm & Love Lock Bridge – Newport Rhode Island

Sometimes you just got to get out of the house, get some fresh air, and poke at something with a stick. Maybe a dead bird. Just kidding, this adventure didn’t involve any dead birds.

This was another adventure in nostalgia where my companion tried to remember somewhere from twenty plus years ago enjoyed in the haze of mispent youth. I’m more than happy to oblige because I was a VERY well behaved youth who was monitored and controlled more than a felon with an ankle bracelet and it’s nice to see what freedom must have been like back in the day.

This time around I was treated to Purgatory Chasm, not the more well known one in Massachusetts but the one no one’s heard of in Newport Rhode Island. It’s so obscure the parking lot is tiny and only good for a half an hour of parking. There was however a handicapped space… in case you wanted to take your wheelchair bound buddies to a heavily rooted hill and an oceanside cliff for no particular or heavily insured reason.

Purgatory Chasm itself is only a hop, skip, and clumsy trip away from the parking lot and it reminded me a lot of Thunder Hole up in Maine, just smaller and somewhat less thundery. It still made a pretty good whooshing locomotive sound when the waves came in. I can totally imagine my nervy Puritian ancestors pointing to the noise growling from the rocks and declaring it must be the devil. Curiously although Heaven was always above for these people Hell always seemed to be here on earth – you can tell because they named half the land here Purgatory something-or-other.

Beyond the chasm there was also a lovely little love lock bridge my companion wasn’t even aware of. Clearly others had as it was FULL of locks, some of which had hearts and names carved into them, most of which were rusted to high hell because unlike other more famous love lock bridges this one was likely constantly sprayed with saltwater.

A few weedy little trails led to a handful of observation points that gave a pretty view of the beach off to one side, a weird sea monster looking set of rocks in the water and lots of ocean. There was also a tiny tree stump that had a heart shaped center ring that made me believe it may have been a Giving Tree – loving its people even while they were cutting it down. The scenery was beautiful but also clearly a lover’s nest reminding me just a bit of the beach the main characters of Wristcutters: A Love Story woke up on. If you’ve seen that movie you’re probably screaming just a little bit, if you haven’t you should totally watch it. It’s way more wholesome than the title infers, I swear! It’s dark comedy at its finest.

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Jeffries Antique Mall

Alas, I have found another antique store I feel like I should have already known about. This one appeared from the outside to be a metal warehouse. On the inside it was aisle after aisle of antiques from dozens of different vendors. This reminded me a lot of my first antiquing adventures in Maine.

Most of the merchandise here was relatively new and nostalgic (and you have to know how damn old it makes me feel to pick up a VHS tape, a rotary phone, or cassette player and know not only are these things now considered antiques but kids these days HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY ARE.) As an elder millennial I’m not immune to the odd Ninja Turtle or particularly weird beanie baby. And this is the sort of place one finds these things, guarded by a swarm of haunted dolls as is tradition.

I was also happy to find lots of vendors were selling affordable vinyl records, most of the classic rock of the 60’s/70’s/80’s variety. These weren’t pristine by any means, most the covers looked very well loved but this is these are the sort of bins you can start a collection of your own with or perhaps find a diamond in the rough. My companion gave a nervous laugh at the fact Bill Cosby’s stand up was still in one of them. Yep, funny thing he’s been everywhere since we learned what a massive twatwaffle he is. And judging by the prices people aren’t really buying it.

Unfortuneately the melting snow outside was staring a puddle in front of what used to be a garage sized door. My companion made sure to tell the staff who seemed less than thrilled with this discovery, though still thanked us for pointing it out.

I may be back to this place for some more rummaging. It’s large enough that there’s a good possibility of finding something interesting with every visit.

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Delaney Antiques [Clocks] – West Townsend Massachusetts

After going to the Hobart Antique Mall we realized that directly across from it there was another sign reading Antiques across the road. We decided to explore this further having no idea what it was. The sign out front seemed even older and more worn out than the Hobart Village Antiques but there was cars in the lot so we held on for the ride. The entrance was a little weird but we found it and then walked into one of the bizzarest places we’ve been yet. Suddenly we were surrounded on all sides by antique clocks, all ticking. At the risk of dating myself I felt like I was walking into a scene from Hook but unlike the kid in that movie I didn’t have a baseball bat and a bad influence instead I had an immediate panic attack. Ticking is one of my triggers that brings me right back to grade school when some teacher thought it was a great idea to teach children math through timed tests. So we all sat with our multiplication tables and and who got to sit next to the loudly ticking egg timer? You guessed it! Me! I never did learn my multiplication tables and to this day I find timed tests to be child torture. Recently I’ve gone back to learn my math with DuoLingo and was more than horrified to find part of its lessons are again, timed tests. No ticking but still as anxiety inducing.

I swallowed hard and walked in anyway knowing I was being neurotic, these are grandfather clocks, not Acme bombs, and no one’s asking me math questions. Just put on your big kid pants and deal with it.

This place was a two level post and beam barn filled in every corner with grandfather clocks against every wall and in the middle of the room? Tables with smaller mantle clocks. All in pristine condition, all ticking, all reading a different time! So now not only was I sweating hard from panic I was also struggling not to twitch from the chaos of none of them being set right. This is an autistic person’s nightmare, honestly, so much so I noticed I wasn’t taking any photos of individual clocks so I closed my eyes, breathed a moment, and allowed my instinct to drag me to the most interesting looking clock. It had an elaborate wood inlay pattern, the likes I’d never seen before. I took a moment to take a picture of that before walking up the stairs which was decorated with clock faces, so many clock faces.

By the time we made it to the second floor my companion was quietly talking. These clocks are neat but expensive he lamented. He looked at the price tag on one which was over a grand. I blinked, happy to be focusing on something other than the ticking, and said well yeah, the one you picked has a mahogany inlay. By now the shop keep had come up and started talking to us. Ask any questions, he welcomed. So my companion asked about Newport Rhode Island and apparently back in the day they had a few famous clock makers and he pointed out those clocks as we riffed about what an odd place colonial Newport was. One of these clocks was made of solid walnut, I nodded and said, “When we still had walnut trees” which seemed to delight the shop keep who confirmed the sentiment. Black walnut still exist in the United States but are near extinct due to diseases and pests that thrived in the pine forests we planted after cutting down every old forest hardwood tree that existed here. There are conservation efforts going on right now to grow more and the public can help. This is one of the reasons I want to own land – to be a custodian of some of these precious trees, grown from nuts acquired through these programs.

We also got to see a reproduction piece of furniture from the John Brown house that was the most expensive piece of American furniture to be sold at auction. It was indeed beautiful.

I asked what the oldest clock was and he showed us a grandfather clock built in 1610. It was English and spent most of its life in England and France. Strangely enough it was the one clock I took a singular photo of with the ornate wood inlays. I’d been drawn to it for a reason!

We thanked the owner for the history lesson and said we’d refer anyone looking for an antique clock here! Hell, if we ever end up with the old farm house of my dreams I’m not guaranteeing that won’t be us someday. You know if this blog ever goes viral and we end up with clock money!

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Hobart Village Mall Antiques – West Townsend Massachusetts

This week it was time to amble around a few places a little closer to home than usual. I had no idea this one even existed but it sounded promising, I mean when you put village and mall in the title it implies something of decent size. It closed at 5PM though so we went to this one first after waking from a stress-induced coma. This would be the perfect little outing to take our minds off of *vaguely gestures at everything.*

When we got there the sign was very beaten and battered, clearly well aged, and almost covered by a mud-spattered snowbank. Tis the season! The parking lot was confusing and seemed to go right past someone’s driveway. And the building? Just as decrepit looking as their sign. I muttered, “We’re about to be serial killed, aren’t we?” To which my companion tried to lighten the mood by pointing out we weren’t the only car there. THANK GOD.

I was expecting the worse. Really, like another Cookie’s. But low and behold as we walked in the change in scenery was stark! Inside the rooms were well lit, perfectly painted, and all sorts of well thought out displays. Lots of room for each object to really shine and mixed among them all were these “replica” furniture made from what I can only assume was local trees and branches. You know, perfect if you’re going for that rustic look.

I didn’t even look at the price tags on this place because everything looked so clean and proper I knew it’d be out of my budget. And the things we found were very unique! One was a cast iron horse from a child-size carousel made in the 1920’s. It had lost all its coloration over the years and looked just as desperate and wanting as the old cast iron pans you see everywhere. But if you were looking for carousels of better quality there was a whole room of them! We also found a gorgeous French bronze clock depicting a naked Promethius in chains, I guess being punished for that whole giving fire to humanity scandal, a series of French posters, a series of signed prints from artists I wasn’t familiar with, some old probably haunted portraits, the customary smattering of possessed dolls, and a Victrola with a wooden horn! I’ve seen lots of phonographs in my day, some with horns, but never wooden. MY GOODNESS.

We left without buying anything but hey, if you’re in the area and happen to be monied and love purchasing some very unique antiques this place is well worth a little lookie-loo.

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Fab Finds – Foxboro Massachusetts

On yet another jaunt into the great blue yonder we happened by Fab Finds listed as an antique store. Though quaint and charming I wouldn’t have personally categorized it as such. It was more a country decore kinda of place with well arranged displays highlighting a number of quirky babbles, folk art, wall hangings, and a smattering of furniture. The place had a deffinate vibe. Think country chic meets grandma core with a few degrees of fairly moneyed queer kitch. Lots of bedazzled things, lots of little ponderous objects that seemed their own statements of confused wonder. I took a photo of a cherub head looking ominously from the center of the room. One of my companions took a close up photo of the same cherub and it looked… innocent. It was a fun and spontaneous game of Perspective!

Would I suggest this place? If you happen to be in or near Foxboro and this is the vibe of your abode sure! Check it out. Otherwise maybe not. It was VERY niche.

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Puggy’s Keene New Hampshire

Keene is such a cute little hippie college town that I love to visit and see what else I can find. Puggy’s has been on my list for a while but every time I try to find it something distracts my attention. Well not this time!

It’s listed as an antique store but that’s not really the feel I got when I walked in. I mean sure, I was immediately greeted by an absolutely delicious collection of classic 1960’s rock vinyls but beyond that this store was more a hippie shop. It had Greatful Dead tee shirts, a corner for cool shiny rocks, a bunch of fidget toys, and yes some retro toys and another room full of more antique-y things which for the most part were joyfully bizarre. This seemed like a little bit of everything and it was run by an adorable old hippie woman who clearly knew everyone on a first name basis. An unlikely cornerstone of the community which makes me so happy to see as I feel in the American landscape these gathering places are increasingly rare.

So if you live in Keene or nearby deffinately check this place out. Also check it out if you’re into classic rock vinyls because there were four separate vendors specializing in this and they had a delightful assortment. Bowie, T-rex, Deep Purple, local legend Country Joe and the Fish. I could drop SO MUCH money here buying vinyls!

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The Bargain Corner – Swanzey New Hampshire

I thought there were more buildings on the property when I was checking out Fairground Antique Market so I drove around the weird dirt parking lot until I found two more antique stores. One was closed on that day but this one was open so I checked it out.

The front of the building had very worn signs so I guess this place is older than the hills. I walked in and was pleasantly surprised. It was a large building with careful displays and lots of walking space. The antiques were mostly modern and were mixed with junk shop items like a library full of DVDs. There wasn’t a lot here but what was here was very decently priced! In the back there seemed to be a second whole building filled with very well preserved furniture for jaw droppingly cheap prices. Most were hovering around $250. I’m talking hutches, display cabinets, dressers, wardrobes, an ice chest, writer’s desks, really anything you’d find in an old farmhouse and some were quite unique like the wardrobe with huge Gothic arches and the very niche bread baker’s cabinet which had a flour dispenser, a kneading table, and other cool bread making features. Two carousel horses and a bunch of smaller items were scattered about as well.

I would deffinately suggest this place to anyone looking for real wood furniture for extremely affordable prices. This place made me wish I had a house to furnish!

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Fairground Antique Market – Swanzey New Hampshire

I have driven by this antique mall hundreds, if not thousands, of times as I travel to Keene for various errands but I never stopped in because the outside of the place looks confusing and uninviting. These days this doesn’t bother me, I’ll still poke around, buy in previous years I wasn’t so adventurous. This time around I decided it was time and drove into their dirt parking lot that promised antiques through various signs. I parked near a door I thought was the entrance but alas it wasn’t and I had to hop and skip around a number of icy puddles around the building to get into the correct door. I wasn’t expecting much but this place turned out to be huge and filled to the brim with all sorts of neat things.

There were a few probably haunted dolls, oodles of absolutely bizarre knick knacks, a delightful smattering of cast iron, a herd of Breyer horses (appaloosas to be exact,) two black Raggedy Anne dolls, a depressed Gothic Raggedy Anne doll, a series of old toasters that looked like they’d work better as inciniary devices, and some fun vintage hats and clothes including a lacy Victorian child’s nightie that looked fit to be buried in. You know, ghost clothes.

This store also did well what it didn’t have – no N@zi bullshit, not a single item I could find, no “Chinamen” type bricabracs, no weird Native American stuff clearly made by white people, and no mammies! Hell, I only found one racist doll that looked like a Yeti doing a minstrel. At least he had character.

Every time I go to a place like this I tell myself I need to educate myself on what’s actually valuable so I can start a career in picking. I sometimes flip through cases of old vinyl records hoping to find gold but this place oddly didn’t have many vinyls. And my phone had no internet or reception in the building so I couldn’t even look it up if I found something. I was however really drawn to this particular cast iron cauldron I found. It was $125 and I couldn’t really justify spending that much but boy it was weird and beautiful. After I got home I looked it up and found out it was an early piece from Fall River Massachussetts, produced at a mill that burned down in the 1920’s after nearly a century of production. There was a mint condition one selling on ebay for seven and a half grand. WHAT?! I didn’t even know cast iron could have that kind of value! I mean this one wasn’t in mint condition as it was clearly used and loved with chips along the rim but there’s a huge gap between $125 and $7,500+! So I went back the next day and bought it. And while I was looking through this place again I found a cast iron ladle in another booth and they looked so fetching together it came home with me too. I guess I’m probably an honorary witch now.

The cashier was sweet and asked if I had an old house to put my new purchase in. I smiled broadly and said, “Not yet!” But I do have a terrible fondness for houses from the 1700’s, especially shakerbox style, and if it still has a fireplace this cauldron would be a hell of a showpiece to put in it. She warned me such places are money pits, she knows because she owns one, and I laughed. I know, but it’s worth the ghosts that probably haunt them. I know these days my daydreaming might seem a bit childish when the world feels like it is collapsing around me, but it’s these moments that make life worth living and memories of these moments no one can take away.

Anyway… If you’re looking for a large place to pick through and maybe find your own treasures check it out! It’s not only large but there’s two other antique stores across the parking lot. Make a day of it and be happy.

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Oak Grove Cemetery – Lizzie Borden’s Grave- Fall River Massachusetts

Why not follow up a ghost hunt at the Lizzie Broden Inn with a stroll through the cemetery she was buried in a few days later? That’s absolutely what we, two lovably morbid history buffs, did today.

I had Oak Grove Cemetery on my big list of cemeteries to check out but I had long forgotten why until I was reminded this morning. Ooooh yeeeah, it’s where the Bordens are buried!

I was expecting another sprawling garden cemetery oozing personality in the form of varied monuments and when I drove up to the gate of this place I really felt this what it must be. Big iron castle-looking gates, an actual parking lot beyond with several cars, and an information center inviting you to check out their cemetery tour QR code. But that wasn’t necessary because there were giant white arrows on the pavement leading to Lizzie’s grave. This place certainly knew who to cater to! This is the first time in all my cemetery jaunts that I have seen a grave so well marked for tourists. And it was only a very short walk which was great because it was cold as a witch’s tit today.

Curiously Lizzie is buried in the same plot as the father and step mother she likely ax murdered. She was found innocent at the time and lived a long life afterwards but there’s proof here she never quite got away from the stigma of the crime in the form of her name – changed from Elizabeth to Lizbeth. I don’t think dropping the E helped much to be honest. She’d eventually move from the family home to her own mansion across town where instead of socializing with an entire town that was giving her the cold shoulder she prefered instead to host theater actrices from afar, more than a few of which she likely courted. In those days she would have been known as a spinster, today we probably would say something more along the lines of lesbian.

Lizzie Borden to me stands as a bit of a tragic figure. Forever memorialized by a children’s jump roping rhyme forever naming her as a killer and she probably was but I think if she were tried today she’d be seen in a little more sympathetic light. There’s quite a few historians who give her father more than a little side eye for potentially being not just a miser and all around horrible person but also one who may have been grooming his own daughters. I saw the crime scene photos – there is nothing left of the Borden’s faces, to me that suggest some serious pent up rage, built up from decades of abuse and held back only by the strings of a corset. Lizzie may still see her time as we grow as a society to have a better understanding of criminal psychology. We could recast her as a folk hero of the Me Too Movement for taking charge of her own destiny in a time when that was near impossible for a woman.

But back to the cemetery, would I suggest it to my readers here? Maybe, if you are into the Lizzie Borden story. Otherwise probably not. Although the cemetery was sprawling there were remarkably few monuments that looked unique enough to get my attention – less than a handful of statues, a couple masoliums, a single Celtic cross. I will note however there was a rather large murder of crows watching us from creepy bare trees the whole time which seemed fitting.

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