Route 1A Relics – Ellsworth Maine

Sometimes you find the best things while trying to go somewhere else. I remember when I was growing up the adults were always sooo frustrated when the kids would go completely off the rails and stop paying attention to whatever it was, they were supposed to be paying attention to, but I surmise this are the best bits of life.

I’m an adult now with flagrantly untreated ADD so not much has changed. My need for novelty and complete lack of planning are still fierce. So, it’s not surprising to know that on the way to Acadia State Park I passed by this absolutely chaotic antique store and HAD to stop. I am so glad we did!

This place was… mental. Outside a clutter of rural relics adorned the front, skeletons danced in the upstairs windows, and a giant lobster guarded a bus that looked like it’d been turned into a little cafe. Maybe that’s for the summer, I don’t know, I usually show up to these things off-season when everything looks abandoned and apocalyptic. But the store itself was still buzzing. People were shopping, there were two cashiers, life was good.

I found a bin of driftwood out front and rummaged through it as each piece was $5, a fraction of what driftwood back home costed, and I thought my aquarium fish deserved a nice addition to their decor. Inside the place looked even more like a barn than the outside with exposed beams and wood floors. I loved the atmosphere already, but it took a decidedly even more lovable turn the more we ventured inside. There were a number of vendors here who clearly had an eccentric sense of humor, or at least an unconventional decorating style. One corner drew me to it with its large arched window and posters plastered randomly in all directions all over the aforementioned arch. That vendor was selling action figures and animal bones. Because those two things are very complimentary. Just across from this was a huge assortment of brand-new books, the remnants of a failed bookstore I’m guessing. I picked up a really unique looking volume on New England folklore here and begrudgingly paid almost full price. It just was too damn interesting to leave.

In another room we found a life size Spiderman, tangled in webs on the ceiling, looking like he was about to be devoured by a black widow. I’m no expert on comics but I’m not sure that’s how that story goes… Aquaman was also on the ceiling, as I’m sure he’s accustomed, riding the top of a hanging canoe. And if that wasn’t alarming enough clowns started to appear, a life size It and a life-size Batman in a distressingly seductive pose neither of us could figure out. It wasn’t even the sexy revisionist Batman of the 80’s to present, it was the classic cartoonish version.

I was also delighted to see a whole booth of weird fish pottery. You cannot beat the absolute strangeness of local artists. All this wonderful ambiance seemed to be the heart of this adventure. It’s almost as if I’ve forgotten to mention the antiques! There were a number of them in this shop, and as is custom they ranged in price with the most affordable in the basement and the most insanely priced on the top floor. Really a nice assortment of everything small and quirky.

My companion left that day with an old Zippo lighter. It was shiny, and contains fire, so I could see the appeal. We both bought some bomb mittens that according to the cashier a sweet old lady had made from old sweaters. I have used them since, and they are really warm!! Highly recommended if you need a pair!

Annnnywaaay, if you happen to need a little whimsy in your life or like antiquing for small objects this is really where it’s at, and it’s near a lot of touristy things too if you come in the summer.

January 8, 2024 0

Re-Unique Antique – Old Saybrook CT

First of all I must say this place was WAY too chic for my limited budget but WOW am I happy we ended up here! When we drove in I was already in love with the place because there were gargoyles and eccentric garden statuary in the parking lot. Inside it was swaaaaaannnnkkk. A full body of armour greeted us as did the delightful sound of old French music as Edith Piaf sang in the background. My little international heart may have skipped a few beats (I’ve never heard Edith Piaf played in a store??)

ANYWAY. This place was of moderate size but wow did it have some crazy beautiful things, all with such class. Ornate gothic furniture, a carousel horse, grandiose mirrors, folk art paintings on one wall, and not a speck of dust to be seen anywhere. Although it wasn’t without a sense of humor as someone did leave a fake spilled coffee out to incite a few gasps.

LOVED this place. Would totally go here for furniture if I were loaded. Maybe someday… Did I mention it had a guest book? An antique store… with a guest book. So cute. ANYWAY.

September 12, 2022 0

Cat Hollow Park – Killingly CT

*If you’re just here for pretty pictures feel free to scroll to the gallery at the bottom, I took a lot!

You know we haven’t done all that much in Connecticut… so on this particular day that’s where we decided to poke around. Only thing is I don’t know squat about Connecticut so I had to conspire with Google. I asked for a town map because I didn’t want to drive much more than an hour. It’d already been a super packed week. On the border of Connecticut I saw Killingly and decided that sounded like a interesting town name and I asked what was there… Cat Hollow State Park was the answer. Even better it was supposed to be a park with the ruins of two old cotton mills in it.

I didn’t really know what to expect. Probably something swank, this is Connecticut after all. And the park was newly established – only running since 2003. What does a baby park look like? Wellllll….

Driving into town it was indeed a posh area filled with great big mansions behind thick brick walls and iron gates. And all the street names had hideously adorably animal names like Doghouse, Cockcrow, Cat Hollow, and my favorite Peeptoad. Did we fall into a fairy book? No, we most certainly did not, because when we drove up to the park it looked thoroughly abandoned. It was a gate across a road with one car parked in front of it, a big trail map bulletin board with NOTHING on it and I mean nothing, not so much as a scrap of paper or hint it ever said anything on it. There was a bench just beyond but it was looking at nothing except the blocked off road. What just happened?! How did we end up here??

Although not impressed by the state of this place we still decided to get out and look around. And in good spirit I decided to place one of my books on the bench to be found by some passerby as part of my book bombing campaign. Who knows, maybe someone will find it and love it.

We were a bit confused at what we saw from there. Beyond the gate it looked like a very new paved road big enough for cars but obviously not driven on by cars. Infact even though the road looked almost brand new it also looked like it’d been left over from some apocalyptic society collapse. It was odd. Not far up the path we found another bench, this one had its leg chained to a pole with no less than three locks but the pole was only 2 feet off the ground which means the chain loop could have easily been lifted over it if someone was insistent on bringing home this bench. Even funnier still the chained loop wasn’t even a loop. Upon further inspection it was just a chain placed on the ground to look like it looped around something. Very odd!

Then we started seeing the weird graffiti. Every big rock seemed to have the same image on it – that of a neon pink spraypainted figure with big X’s for eyes and a crazy hairdo that made it look either like Mom from Futurama or Nosferatu. If there’s anything I have learned in the past few years it’s that teenagers love abandoned places and things. Wherever you can find ruins in the woods you will also find great evidence of teenagers. The two for whatever reason are inseparable and these odd tags throughout the park only further proved this observation.

It wasn’t far in that we came by a fence – the most woeful fence I have ever seen in my life. Behind it there was some sort of wrought iron equipment sat on the river, maybe the remains of a water turbine or something similar. The fence did nothing to keep me away from it as just around the edge of the fence was a path where people were clearly going around to see it anyway. And beyond that there was a rough path into the wilderness which I honestly couldn’t tell if it was made by humans or deer but I figured what the hell might as well “bushwhack” our way through this as one internet guide suggested we might have to do in this park. And it wasn’t too far away that we found the first substantial set of ruins over this river.

This trail seemed to have ended at these ruins so after poking around we headed back up towards the road and continued on foot from there. Apparently, this road extended for half a mile. We wouldn’t get that far though before we found more trails jutting off the sides. We decided to take another one right around the edges of a fence that seemed to have a different set of ruins behind them. This one brought us into the woods to a very serene little spot where the river had more or less dried up so we could wander over it at will.

It was then we realized all the rocks at the bottom of this riverbed were blackened which seemed very weird. Was this some sort of pollution form the 1800’s? Probably not, after coming home I learned these mills all burned down, one as recently as 2001. You could see the charred line on some of the larger rocks a little downstream.

We walked along the river’s edge for quite a while until we came to the biggest feature of the park – a giant stone wall over the river that on a normal day is a beautiful waterfall. They must be suffering drought this year as there wasn’t so much as a trickle. There was however a young man meditating on a rock underneath it, weary of our presence. We wandered on.

I think we ended up doing the trails ass backwards because this is when we found the “picnic area” and the sign denoting the beginning of the trail being choked out by vines. This seemed fitting for this part. Here we also found more graffiti (with one rock literally looking like a kindergartner painted on it) and of course another trail that led under some bridges and out into a field on Main Street. It was cool under the bridges, and we loitered for a while digging the graffiti salamander looking down at us.

After returning from that dead end we found what looked like another trail on the high ground making jokes about bigfoot and starting to sweat from the oppressive heat and humidity. We took a few breaks and just mucked about before finding our way back from where we came. I’m told there’s a mile and a half of trails out there but every map shows something different and when we were on the ground there wasn’t any markers or guides or even any way to note when a trail had started soooo…. it was a fun place to wander but uh, poorly organized on the park’s side. That being said seeing the ruins were very cool and we both enjoyed just chilling out there in nature.

When we finally managed to find our way back to the car it was only then we found the signs saying what we could find here in the park and where to go. They were… in rough shape. Could have been used as the set of a post-apocalyptic horror movie. But hey, I guess it’s an E for Effort?

Sadly no one took my book in the two hours we spent puttering about.

August 29, 2022 0

Laura’s Tower Stockbridge MA

September 30th was my birthday so I decided to celebrate by releasing my first fiction novel Achilles in Heels and going on a bit of an adventure to find whatever remains of Alice’s Restaurant. It’s that time of year after all.

It was a two hour drive into the Berkshires at the height of the fall foliage season and I must admit just the colors alone made me super happy to be on this journey. My intention was to find the restaurant and church mentioned in the song Alice’s Restaurant heard below:

However while I was down there I might as well go for a little hike. My travel companion had found photos of a trail that looked gorgeous and seemed to end in a observation tower that looked out over the mountains from Stockbrdge’s highest point. Perfect.

And so we headed to Laura’s Tower. It was a trail at the end of a sweet little residential street that had a sign reading, “residents only.” After two hours of driving I wasn’t about to listen to it (sorry) and parked the car in the little parking lot at the head of the trail where there were other non-resident vehicles. At the beginning there was a sign describing the trails which neither one of us read until afterwards, much to the chagrin of our bodies…

I’d read reviews of this trail before coming out and one woman claimed to have brought her three year old which had an easy time of it. I’m currently sporting a quarantine bod and am pathetically out of shape but I figured if a three year old could do it I’d be OK.

And so we crossed this adorable little stone bridge and found ourselves on the most whimsical trail I’d ever seen. It was bordered by these windy fences and walked alongside the Housatonic river. Beautiful. Quaint. But we walked the whole loop in a matter of minutes and there was nothing in the shape of an observation tower anywhere to be seen. Hmmmm. I enjoyed this little jaunt but I was feeling a bit unsatisfied. This was indeed a scenic little walk but maybe a bit anticlimactic without the tower. There was a second path branching off this one at the very beginning that went over the train tracks just over the bridge. We decided to poke at it and hope that’s where the tower was.

Now I have to admit the day before we went to Sherri’s Castle again, somehow wound off the trail there, and I ended up in the indignant position of sliding on my butt down a deer path because wet leaves, a steep hill, and Converse sneakers are a terrible mix. I was hoping this wasn’t going to end the same way.

Still, we trekked into the woods, and began up this path which at first was a slow but steady incline. Even so it was becoming straining. About halfway up we stopped and took a rest on a rocky outcropping. We’d neglected to eat lunch before this and we were both hungry, tired, and unsure if we wanted to go on but according to my trail app we were already halfway up. I didn’t know if I could handle that much more hiking but we tried anyway.

This is when the path went from pleasant little incline to an absolutely punishing upward grapple that weaved in every direction like a mountain road with no ending in sight. Two thirds of the way up I thought I was going to die. My legs were not having anymore of this. I gasped and panted in a most unflattering way. I was taking breaks every 250 feet or so. My heart was trying to leap out of my chest. My resolve was dissolving. I seriously considered just accepting I was defeated and going back down but two thirds of the way up is almost there and after driving two hours to get here I was unlikely to come back. I’d always blame myself for being too much of a wuss to make it to the top. My travel companion was fairing a little better than me but not by much and felt the same.

So we took a lot of breaks. By now my legs had gone from sore to outright painful with every step. Sharp stabbing pains. I knew if I could keep going the endorphins would kick in and I’d eventually go numb. So I pushed forward, leaning on trees at every break, watching the people who took the trail at the same time as us make it to the top and then pass us on the way down. Embarrassing. They did claim it wasn’t far though and that it was worth it!

I braced myself on a tree to puke at one point and came very close to losing the precious little water I just swallowed. Puking is my body’s answer to every problem. Luckily it was really just around the corner that time and I made it to the observation tower. Our reward for taking this punishing hike came in the form of a steep terrifying stairway to the sky. Uuuuuuughhhh.

I took a breather as my travel companion braved the stairs. When he got to the top all I heard was, “Shit!”

I frowned and yelled upwards, “What?!” thinking he’d dropped something to the bottom or some other terrible thing was happening.

“It was worth it!” He yelled back.

Oh OK, I’ll take my sorry ass and see what’s up there. I grabbed ahold of the hand rails and slowly made my way up trying not to look anywhere because I’m not great with heights.

And when I got to the top – WOW. Brilliantly colored trees were in all directions. This was a bird’s eye view of Autumn and it was spectacular. I took a few snaps, made a few off handed comments on FaceBook and Twitter, and then we made our way back down which was actually even more terrifying than going up!

Of course the trail back was all going down hill so was way easier and we were back at the beginning just as the forest was going dark for the night. Perfect timing. Now to find that restaurant… only it apparently doesn’t exist anymore, even under a new name, and the church? It was somewhere beyond a closed bridge and my brain was too melted to want to figure that one out so someday I will have to come back…

It was still an awesome birthday. And it can be even better if anyone buys my book Achilles in Heels, wink wink, nod nod. (I’ll stop mentioning it after this, I promise. I am just so excited for it!)

In the meanwhile I’m sorry this entry is lacking in photos. My phone has been throwing temper tantrums about storage space and I accidentally deleted all the photos I took which were not backed up in trash in any way. So all I have are a handful I posted to FaceBook the day of and my travel companion’s snaps. All below.

What’s left of my pictures:

My companion’s photos:

October 3, 2020 0

Sheldrick Forest Preserve – Town Farm Road Wilton NH

I know I am still on the younger side but since quarantine I have started Sunday driving to keep myself sane. I like to wander off and find myself some nice dirt roads in the middle of nowhere – you know the sort I am talking about that are surrounded on all sides by trees and dotted with hunting camps and farmhouses from the 1700s. Roads that have enticing names like Stagecoach and Snakepit. I mean how could I not want to explore that??

Today was no different. I decided to go towards Wilton in an ambling drunken beeline weaving to and fro at random. It was fun! But as usual I was on the lookout for a nice trail to hike down. I passed by so many but they all either had “No Trespassing” signs or were just trails crossing the road with no parking anywhere in sight. I basically had lost hope when I decided to return home. I was almost back when I noticed a sign I’d never seen before that literally read, “hiking trail” with a little arrow pointing towards a road I’d never been before. Universe, are you talking to me again? Because it’s working.

The road turned to dirt and I found myself crawling at 14 miles per hour down it hoping the sign didn’t lie. I was almost to the end and believing it was all indeed just a rouse when alas I came across a big sign reading, “Sheldrick Nature Preserve.” SCORE! I took a quick turn and found myself in a grassy parking lot of sorts with two other cars, a bulletin board, and no real trail in sight, though I knew it had to be there somewhere.

Sure enough, as I looked at the map on the bulletin board an elderly couple wandered out from the back of the parking lot’s field and I knew that must be where the trail was – beyond a vast wild strawberry patch.

As I walked I came across the second couple whose car was in the parking lot right off the bat. OK OK, so I was out kind of late, still this meant I had the whole trail to myself! And it was QUIET. This is one of those trails out in the middle of nowhere that feels a bit like going back in time. I needed this bit of serenity. As of late I haven’t been feeling myself. I’ve been pretty drained and down in mood and well… this little bit of serenity fed my soul like nothing else. Almost immediately I had found some huge really weird mushrooms growing on a felled tree. They were waxy in texture and took some pretty wild forms. I was fascinated by them even though I haven’t the foggiest idea what they were. Probably something that could kill legions. I’m good at finding that sort of thing… and thinking it’s cute until told otherwise.

Anyway there were several trails here that connected to each other. I snapped a photo of the map with my cell phone before entering so I’d know where to go. It was fortunate. The path is at first all down hill and easy but what goes down must eventually come up and I am still flagrantly out of shape. I walked down Helen’s Path and then turned taking Margaret’s Meander which is a loop. This led me up some very steep hills which left me embarrassingly gasping for air. I can’t believe I let myself get this bad!

Still I was very much enjoying how quiet and peaceful it was here. The only noise I could hear were chipmunks skittering about here and there and a single crow watching me dubiously from the canopy. If only I had a place a beautiful as this in my back yard!

I’ll admit that after Margaret’s Meander I was too exhausted to do the rest of the loop… which if the internet is right had a river somewhere on it. I decided to leave that adventure for another day now that I know this place exists! And so close to home! Yep, it was the perfect little introvert’s escape.

June 14, 2020 0

Fairfield Antiques Mall – Fairfield Maine

Since I was already in the area cooing at my submersible friends at AquaCorals, I decided I would stop at an antique mall just down the street. I was told by locals it was huge and would take me at least two hours to rummage through. They were not kidding! This was an enormous building, several old industrial barns I think, with five winding labyrinthine floors. It just kept going and going and going… They had something for everyone here. If you’re familiar with my blog you probably already know what I was looking for – anything really bizarre and a light smattering of soul sucking dolls. I was not disappointed! And since there’s not really much more I can say on the topic I decided this entry will be a little… different. So I am taking my favorite photos of the hundreds I took and am just going to add a little…. commentary. If you’re easily offended this is probably the point you should leave this page, otherwise continue on!

Literally the first thing I saw was a giant cock… no really, isn’t he handsome? If I still ran a poultry farm he would have so come home with me.

After entering the store I stumbled onto this HUGE moose head with the most amusing sign behind him… It reads, “Hunting $50.00 per day, by written permission only.” I’m not a hunter but I sort of think this one’s already spent.

Then I found an album of what is most likely some of my distant relatives…. though this woman has a striking resemblance to Lizzie Borden and I wonder….

Followed by a set of ~~terrifying~~ patriotic mugs…

By this time my mother, who was tagging along in today’s adventures, was rifling through the old photos when she came across this one and finally admitted they might actually be relatives of ours…

I may have replied if I weren’t distracted by a series of pots who appeared to be blooming? Seriously though, what is up with the one on the far left?? It’s going to burst!

Two seconds later I got the sensation someone was watching me and when I turned around I found out it was Amelia Earhart. Huh.

Then I started running into the…. randomly probably quite racist items. I don’t even know which minority this is supposed to be offending. It looks like an old Asian dude wearing an Indian feather…?!

Then I found the saddest lion glued to a hot air balloon! I think he was sad because the hunter on the left shot his family…

“Pediophobia is the unwarranted, irrational and persistent fear or worry of dolls.” Why do I mention this? Oh no reason….

There is no word for the rational fear of dolls but I believe there should be. Just look at this doll and tell me there isn’t something a wee bit off there.

Of course dolls don’t always kill people. Sometimes they take out their murderous rage on other dolls. Evidence of this can be seen here. Witness the empty pram, the demonically smiling blonde looking up at the light like she just sacrificed a baby to the gods – OH LOOK! To the lefthand corner we can see the crumpled corpse of an infant! SHE DID. SHE TOTALLY SACRIFICED THAT BABY!

This doll knows something we don’t, maybe he’s next…

A common trick for serial killer dolls is to leave something shiny out for potential victims to be distracted by… Oooooo!

AHHHH! Those soulless eyes!

No worries, this next one’s asleep – and I am terribly confused by it. Just… why??

Hey look! It’s a me! I’m not for sale though. Sorta like Alice from Alice’s Restaurant. You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant, excepting Alice…

“Coulrophobia is the persistent and irrational fear of clowns.”

Coulropediophobia is the persistent and irrational fear of clown dolls. (Also I may have just made that up but it seems like it should be a thing…)

Here’s a cow who has apparently been eating cow flops…. Maybe the doll behind him was bullying him?

The eighties were a weird time when little girls across the country all bounded for joy to have their very own Little Miss Prosti-Tot. Her first name is Trix.

This baby knows something, something big, something dark. Hey where’d Trix go?

“Look! I found a re-borne! Its heavy! And cute! IT HAS DROOL!” — “Mom, put that down. It looks like it came from the morgue.”

I know this post is getting a little doll heavy but look at these giggling ankle biters…. tell me they won’t haunt your dreams tonight…

I have no idea what’s going on here…. and something tells me I don’t want to… look at that shocked expression in the back corner!

This one just ate someone’s heart, I swear, ripped it right out of their chest. That’s why she’s so gleeful.

OK OK, time to stop staring at the dolls and hope they aren’t like Weeping Angels, you know coming to kill you as soon as you blink. Look! A weird ENORMOUS painting of a moth! And a lock! How manly! It’s art for menly men!

And of course it’s not a real antique store if there isn’t any froofy furniture… I have for you, a chair, the first of many, but don’t worry, I won’t linger like I did with the dolls.

I was actually kind of impressed with this next one. It’s a bird made entirely of seeds. I call it a seedling.

I rubbed it and made three wishes. All that happened is I got thrown out for molesting the lamps.

Never trust a nun. Never trust a nurse. And never trust a cat. (Also never trust someone with too many Doctor Who jokes.)

That last rhyme said nothing of hares…. but this one doesn’t look trustworthy either.

“OK, I need you to make me a butter dish in the shape of a terrified cat…. make sure to add googly eyes.”

I’m at a lack of words for this next one. Well sort of. I mean I have words…. I just don’t think I should use them. A picture is worth a thousand after all…

Shout out to all the Mass girls…

I’m going to kill you thiiiiiiis much!

Here are some Humbolt figurines telling each other stories of lurid debauchery.

“Can’t sleep, clown’s going to eat me. Can’t sleep, clowns going to eat me.”

For a second I forgot this place actually had legitimately not-scary things for sale…

I actually sort of like this lamp…. which makes no sense since dolls and Cherubs freak me out so much…

Bet you didn’t know UnDead dolls were a thing…

PUPPY!!

Yes, if you want your crank phone to work… add wires. Always add wires.

“All the better to strangle you with!”

I found Liberace’s dinnerware…

I am as surprised as you are – granted I don’t have a bottle shoved up my backside… so maybe not.

Two old tribesmen…. fighting over CDs…. (Seriously the label said this was a CD rack…)

My eye was caught by some really sweet purple bottles…. and then I started reading them. This one literally says “2oz Sperm” which had me concerned for a moment before I continued to read “sewing machine oil.”

Unless you collect buttons you have no idea how impressive this is…

HOLY CRAP. WHAT A BEAUTIFUL CHUNK OF ORANGE… I must be delirious from the heat! (It is actually 94 degrees and muuuuuuuugggggy, so this may be a hallucination. Either way I don’t have $45 or a place to put such a wonder…)

OK, now I am positive I am hallucinating because that wall hanging looks like Wilfred, that crude smack-talking Australian dude in a dog outfit…

PLEASE NO ~~homoerotic displays~~ “DANCING” Coincidentally this sign also reminded me of this scene:

The Doctor: We were talking about dancing.

Captain Jack: It didn’t look like talking.

Rose Tyler: It didn’t feel like dancing.

I’m not going to ask what he’s spitting out.

OH HELL NO. FETCH ME THE FLY SWATTER!! QUICK!!

I found a soulless cocker spaniel. Who knew!

Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar? No one, because no one dared…. holy crap is this thing scary!

A tiny ~~doll~~ mink trap!

This doll is not amused by that last joke. She knew another doll whose porcelain ankle was shattered by a ~~doll~~ mink trap once…

My mother, “I had a doll exactly like this once!” Damned if I didn’t know that – her brother bought it for her when they were children and her other brother ripped off its fingers. She kept the fingers in a tiny drawer hoping someday to glue them back on but then the doll got ruined or thrown out or something and all that was left were tiny tiny disembodied fingers…. which I found later. You know what? This could begin to explain my ill ease with dolls…

WHY?!

LOVE the sign behind these two soulless dears. “Visitors of hotel guests MUST LEAVE.” Must be the hotel California.

“Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
‘Relax’ said the night man,
‘We are programmed to receive.
You can check out any time you like,
But you can never leave!'”

There’s too many things in this next work of art that rattle me to the core for me to even begin explaining…

He’s just pissed he’s been stored in a box surrounded on all sides by honky music.

I legitimately thought these were artful renditions of the TARDIS at first…

Another small dead child.

I’m being alerted I haven’t offended enough Asian people in this post soooo…

Look! A jaundiced pig! Who’s up to something.

Anyone remember being read Babushka’s Doll as a child? Also, you know what, my fears of dolls is starting to really make sense now.

~~Butt nuggets~~ Cookies!!

He’s seen too much.

Uhmmm…. that’s not where salt comes from….

This bitch is too classy for this joint.

What’s that? I also haven’t offended enough black people? OK, we’ll just see what this doll has to say about that!

The only two realistic looking black dolls ARE NOT AMUSED by that last joke. In fact they’re not amused by anything. Whose idea was it to make a series of depressed children’s dolls anyway?

Paradise Lost? “WAKE UP EVE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WAKE UP!”

Did you know Native Americans are devils? Me either.

OK the Viking ship is kind of impressive… though I don’t think wooden sails sounds like such a great idea.

These two little gents got their portrait painted after they murdered the rest of their family and took a break to smoke a pipe. Seriously though, why is the little one smoking a pipe?! And are those really cemetery crosses?!

Ah, that’s better, a pony.

I found this cabinet, which I really liked, buuut I think it’s haunted. No reason, just a swirling feeling in my gut…

Just to be sure I opened it to let the ghosts out.

Remember when I said the first thing I saw was a giant cock? Well, the last thing I saw leaving was two giant cocks. Hope you enjoyed my little jaunt, until next time!

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July 6, 2018 1

Up Mount Washington by the Skin of my Teeth!

A few months ago a friend of mine bought a motorcycle and asked me where he could find some nice winding roads like you see in the commercials. I shrugged, “Up the mountains…” I had forgotten this whole conversation when he asked me recently if I would like to join him for a trip into the White Mountains. Sure, why not. I didn’t ask what was in the White Mountains that was so interesting, I just assumed he wanted to go up Mount Washington… because that’s what everyone does. I should probably note, even though I live in New Hampshire, the three hour drive has kept me away from such a trip until now and… well…. I vastly underestimated a great deal of things.

I should probably mention yesterday was one huge clusterfuck from sun up to sun down and how I managed to get anything done is beyond me. I learned that morning, by randomly looking it up, that Mount Washington was closing for the season the same day I was going up it and also it closes at 4PM. And they stop allowing people up it forty-five minutes before closing. He showed up at 11ish. We had time…

After a minute talking I headed to the Prius to drive, he got on his motorcycle to follow. My GPS immediately decided to be an ass. It would NOT recognize Mount Washington Auto Road, no matter how many ways I tried to type it in. Eventually I had to just punch in 1 Route 16. This took way too long but we were on our way!

The GPS again thought it’d be hilarious to take some bizarre route… Clearly it was drunk today. None-the-less I drove until 1PM and then took an exit to find a gas station, as was the plan, but by this time I had already lost my follower. How I don’t know. I was trying to behave myself. He scooted off ahead and was several exits further than me so after a brief discussion we decided to just head north and try to make it, although by now we’d just be slipping under the radar. My GPS said I’d get there at exactly 3 but after several miscommunications, and taking a wrong exit, it was now reading 3:17. Crap. I had to put a move on. So I sped up, zipping through the mountains. It was GORGEOUS. Suddenly I was surrounded on all sides by vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds, every tree blushing as I went by. If I created the world this is what I would make it look like! The fall foliage made me skip for joy. And the mountains!

Forgive me for thinking so little of mountains in New England but I didn’t think the White Mountains were anything special… I mean I have been all through New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, and Massachusetts, and although all these states have mountains they’re just cute little tree covered hills for the most part. But the White Mountains? They were proper mountains! They started to grow in size I drove closer and they took my breath away. They towered above me as I drove past all these places I had heard of but am yet to explore – the gorge, the White Mountains National Forest, the Basin… I will definitely be coming back!! This reminded me of my days out west when I was floored by the sight of the Rockies. These weren’t quite as grand but for New England they were still pretty impressive! I can’t believe this was hiding here all along. New England continues to surprise me and keep me in absolute awe.

Eventually I ended up close to the Auto Road but my GPS thought it’d be funny to drop me off in the middle of the woods… so I turned around two or three times trying to find this place. My friend had already made it. The gorgeous weather and the fact it was the last day to go up made the toll keepers more lenient. they were still letting people in but by now it was well past 3PM. I looked it up online – apparently the Glen House was near by. My GPS also didn’t know what the Glen House was and when I attempted to get navigation on my phone the internet kicked out. What can I expect in the mountains? I was irritated. Very irritated. And I had skipped lunch to race here.

Finally my GPS read “Approaching Mount Washington Auto Road.” I was ready to fling that piece of shit out the window… “WHY couldn’t you have told me that an hour ago?!” Low and behold there was the road! I drove in and went through. The guy at the gate told me I had ten minutes before they start shuffling people off the mountain. I smiled, forked over an outrageous $29 and continued on! I had my follower back, waiting for me just beyond the gate he drove up behind me.

I’ve been up and down mountain roads before. I’ve driven on narrow roads. I’ve even driven on roads with cliffs or embankments. I had no issue with any of this but I can’t say I expected this road to be like one of those death roads like you see in photos of South America. It was just wide enough to let two cars through, practically kissing mirrors as they passed. To one side was the mountain, no ditch or breakdown lane, just a wall of unforgiving granite. The other side of the road was a sheer cliff face – no guardrails, no nothing to catch you if you didn’t drive exactly where you needed to. It was a winding snake of a road with no room for error ‘least you wanted to topple off and die… and apparently people do… every year. Probably should have known that before I tried it. I was actually doing pretty well but it kept going… up and up and up… and then other cars started to come down and we both had to inch by each other going two miles an hour, a feet that the Prius was not really up for if I am to be completely honest. Prius has a habit of sliding backwards whenever I am going under 15 miles an hour…. so this was actually more difficult than just passing another car and trying not to die. It’s at this point I started cursing loudly and to myself. Then the car would pass and I would be OK again… until I glanced over to my side. I could suddenly see just how far up in the air I truly was and just how fucked I’d be if I messed this up. No room or time for stopping I just kept climbing! So did my friend on the motorcycle. I wondered at times if I was going too fast or slow for him… but he stayed back there.

This was the longest seven and a half miles I have ever driven. By the time I got to the top I threw the Prius in the first parking spot I saw and leapt out to kiss the ground. I MADE IT. And I couldn’t feel more invigorated or alive as I did just then. There, just beyond the ground I was so thankful for standing on, there was the most amazing view I have ever seen. Stretched out for miles and miles there were dozens of peaks and mountain tops all layered like cards in a deck. A raven flew on the currents as wind swirled and swooped. I couldn’t help but think of all the Nordic myths where their gods live at the top of the world, looking down.

“We made it!” I laughed.

“Yes. We did.” I think my travel buddy was a bit speechless. Turns out he had no idea what Mount Washington was and this was far more of a challenge than he probably anticipated when he got up this morning. Though he told me it was worth the trip next time he’d try the train. Good call. At least he was on a motorcycle… with a lot more maneuvering room… so there’s that.

There was remarkably little cloud cover today so I got a few pretty decent snaps. We were able to wander the summit w here there were a few tourist attractions – a building that I think was a restaurant, a gift shop, a train stop, the actual summit, a weather station… a little marker gloating over the record for the world’s fastest wind recorded here. It was 231 miles per hour if you’re wondering.

For years I had seen cars with bumper stickers reading, “this car climbed Mount Washington!” and I always thought it was some stupid gimmicky little thing but after doing it myself and not shitting a brick I felt I deserved a bumper sticker too. They were sold out as far as I could tell. Ah well…. it wasn’t meant to be.

This was the perfect time to come up the mountain because on the way down there was no traffic coming up it, being closed and all. This meant the trip down was a lot easier! I could glide down the middle of the road and be just fine! The rest of the cars ahead of me did the same and before I knew it the smell of burning breaks became all too apparent. There are many turn offs on the way with little signs alerting us to stop and let our breaks cool down. I saw many cars turn off… but the Prius is small and only smelled for a moment. I let it sit when I got to the bottom…

After this we drove into town, grabbed a bite to eat at McDonalds and talked for a bit. I asked if this adventure was worth it, feeling slightly bad it was such an extreme outing for the first time out. Although I felt exhilarated by the challenge, proud to have accomplished it, I am not so sure my friend here was experiencing the same high. Perhaps I am just too much for polite company. SIGH.

The drive home was three hours and twenty minutes in the dark. I cranked up the Led Zeppelin and enjoyed the ride. Life is good.

<strong> If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

October 24, 2017 0

Uncle Sam’s House & Adjoining Forest Trail

Today’s my birthday. It’s also the first day in weeks I have been well enough to leave the house for an excursion longer than grocery shopping. Being cooped up, and feeling myself age like a fine wine, I was desperate for some fresh air. Sadly it was raining… apparently everywhere. I wanted to go to the White Mountains, raining, hike up one of the local mountains, raining, go to Vermont for some foliage photos, raining. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer though, I NEEDED TO GET OUT.

So I waited until after noon when it was supposed to stop raining. It didn’t. I munched on a potato sandwich (I wouldn’t ask) and waited some more. Still raining. At two o’clock my patience finally dissolved. I slipped on a hoodie, threw my camera over my shoulder, and headed to the car. Where was I going? I didn’t know and didn’t care. I was just going to drive until I could find some unfamiliar dirt roads to soothe myself with.

That’s how I ended up in Mason NH. I had this gut feeling that I’d just know when to turn off. And wow. Despite spending some of my childhood in Mason I know remarkably little about it. There are winding dirt roads everywhere with just stunning views of forest and trees, hills, pastures, farms, huge farm houses, tiny cabins, just such a wonderful diversity! Yep… this was working. This was feeding something in my soul that was starving. It fit in nicely with the music I have taken up listening to once again – a poignant and heady mix of 60’s folk and classic rock. I’m thirty-two years old today and I feel like I can almost see time passing me by. I don’t have a career, a home of my own, a relationship, or children, I blow effortlessly in the breeze like a leaf gliding to the earth. Perhaps that is why I had the ethereal tune of Can’t Find my Way Home whispering through my mind all day. “Well, I’m near the end and I just ain’t got the time
And I’m wasted and I can’t find my way home.” There is some sort of deeper sadness in that song that I have always connected to – that feeling of belonging nowhere and to no one. Yet strangely hopeful. Maybe there’s still time to find home both physically and metaphorically. For now I wander aimlessly, concentrating on the beauty of the moment, not letting the future crush me as it always seems to be trying to.

I had looped around a great deal of dirt roads and kept coming back to the 143 so I drove that for a little while until I spotted a big green sign aside the road denoting a historical landmark. As it turns out I had driven to Uncle Sam’s childhood home. I didn’t even know he had any connections to New England. I parked aside the road, took a photo of the sign and the house which was obviously owned by someone who I was hoping wasn’t home and watching, and then meandered only about 50 or 100 feet down the road where I noticed a trail head. Yup, this is where I was supposed to be. I could feel it.

I was at the Florence Roberts Forest. There was a trail bulletin board here but I don’t think any of the papers have been changed in a long long time. The mailbox with the maps only contained a used tissue. I hoped this was a loop trail and headed in following the white markers.

It was cold. And wet. And cloudy. My camera wasn’t happy with any of these conditions but I told it to buck up, we’re doing this thing. It actually turned out to be a sweet little trail! The rain made it all the more magical to me, the damp seemed to add a sense of whimsy. Moss covered rocks lined the path to either side, a few stone walls were scattered throughout likely marking property boundaries from a few hundred years ago, and since it was such a wet day there were salamanders everywhere. They were the bright orange kind you see so frequently here if you’re the kind of person who looks under damp logs which I am.

The salamanders weren’t the only critters out today. I also go to see a number of chipmunks. For being so common they sure are hard to photograph! I feel the aggravation of wildlife photographers as I set my eyes on these tiny fuzzy beasts. They chipped and alerted me to a spot a little off the path which had clearly been used as some dumping ground for spare metal and glass at some point. Pieces of cars and machinery I couldn’t identify scattered the ground next to a rusted out metal wash basin filled with broken glass bottles from God knows when. I inched up to it slowly, hoping it wasn’t an active campsite of someone who was just deranged. Luckily it wasn’t and I took a moment to look at the rust and decay. I smiled knowing nature was taking care of this mess.

Towards the end of the trail was I super happy to find a huge cluster of mushrooms which I think were Hens of the Woods, edible. I am not that ballsy to try my hypothesis but I did enjoy finding them! They smelled delicious – which probably means I’ve misidentified them and can kill a small village with them. That tends to be how these things go… In any event I took a photo of this find next to my shoes to compare them for size.

I was soaking wet by the time I took myself out of those woods, my hands were cold enough to hurt, my nose was running, but for the first time in too long I was smiling. This was a great find! With just a little daylight left I continued to go down dirt roads trying to find odd little vignettes. I found a gorgeous cascade waterfall in someone’s front yard, their house perched right next to this natural wonder, I witnessed a bald eagle fly over my car, and I even found some sort of bridge or trellis which was so quaint and sweet on these back country roads!

Once again I was at ease.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

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October 1, 2017 0

Unnamed Nature Trail – Townsend MA

It’s been a hellish week for so many here in the US. I have spent much of it watching in horror as people I know, and many thousands I do not, are evacuated from their homes in Texas and Florida and sent north to flee a succession of powerful hurricanes which are pounding everything they touch. I’ve seen people turned down by the airlines because they have brought their pets without a shipping proof carrier with themto escape, I have seen others having to leave beloved animals like horses behind because there was just no transport, no where to bring them, and no time. Hotels for hundreds of miles out are all booked solid leaving those traveling by car at the mercy of their vehicles should they need sleep or a break. The scene is of utter chaos and my heart continues to go out to anyone working their way through it.

It rained all week here and I found myself alone for the duration of this. Normally I enjoy a little time to indulge my inner introvert but this week? I think I just ached to know everyone in my inner circle was OK. There seems to be a lot of personal dramas and deaths swirling around as well, completely unrelated to the hurricanes. This leaves a traveling empath such as myself exhausted beyond measure.

Still I woke up feeling a lot more energetic today which is great because I had a few things planned… basically helping someone I knew without a car do a few errands – I am always the one to call for an emergency tampon run. And when I had finished I had decided it was time to go see what I could find with the limited daylight I had left.

I ended up in Townsend Massachusetts, I think where an old town common used to be. There was a large turn off here and I wasn’t sure if this meant anything but on a hunch I decided to check it out. There was indeed an old abandoned road turned into a trail here. It looked like at one point someone was intent on making this a very nice place to be – not too far up it there was a little clearing filled with picnic tables and a camping grill, all overlooking a river. It was quiet as could be. This was the sort of serene and calm place I needed to ease my frazzled mind. It was easy to sit here in the forest and just forget about everything and let the gentle breeze take away all negative thoughts. Overhead a hawk flew by too fast for me on catch on camera but with his elegant wings shimmering through the last rays the sun had to offer today. For a second I was humbled. Normally I hate hawks (have lost many a chicken to those little SOB’s) but today it almost felt like he was a spirit animal there to tell me something. It was very odd and inspiring all at the same time.

I continued to walk after taking a brief respite at the river to snap photos. The road path continued onward but didn’t go very far. I got to see a few different views of the river but other than that there wasn’t much here and at the end there was a little turn around loop as it just stopped dead in the woods. I wondered what this road had been put here for and why it had been abandoned and turned into a park of sorts. I have been finding so many of these places lately… and they always deepen the mystery.

In the coming weeks the trees will continue to turn color here in New England and I hope to take abundant fall foliage photos as I travel from place to place. September is always a month of great whimsy and beauty. It’s always been my favorite time of year and not just because I was born in September. Perhaps having entered the world when it was awash with such vibrant foliage is the reason my favorite color has always been orange…

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

September 10, 2017 0

An Invitation to a New Adventure and a Request for Help

Hello again dear readers and followers! I have had SO MUCH fun this summer bringing you out to see the wilder spots of New England! And your responses to this have been amazing! I am hoping you’re still enjoying the journey because I am about to embark on another. You see my life fell apart about eleven months back in a big and serious way. I lost my beloved farm due to circumstances beyond my control and now I want to start a new one in celebration of all that is good and wonderful in New England. And this time it’ll be far better because I want to start it just as much for all you as I do for myself. It’ll be an educational farm and intentional homesteading community. If you’d like to learn more or possibly support my cause please feel free to visit my GoFundMe page: https://www.gofundme.com/help-fund-an-educational-farm And if you cannot donate but still want to support my bold ideas please share! share! share!

Thank you again for all your support, your suggestions, and all the beautiful and positive thoughts you have sent my way. May your journey be wonderful and your mind be at rest.

UPDATE: The GoFundMe didn’t fly so I have continued my efforts elsewhere. I have added a donate button to this blog to help me pay for gas money and keep it going and in the meantime I still work towards my homestead with my future farm’s website Through the Looking Glass Farm – there I started a video blog to philosophize the life and a store to sell my art (as well as others) and homesteading creations. Any support means the world to me and I thank you all for following my journey.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

August 31, 2017 0