We found yet another win with this one! This antique store really stood out for having 4 dedicated display rooms full to the brim with Halloween antiques. They weren’t for sale as they were the private collection of the owner but wow, they were fun to gawk at just the same! And there was actually a number of Halloween antiques throughout the store that were for sale as well. It all delighted me to the core. I am SO HAPPY to see Halloween becoming a serious competitor for Christmas. It makes my darkened heart leap for joy. A win for all the freaks among us!
But back to the antique mall – this place was pretty sizable and had a very good diversity of dealers. It had multiple floors, all in a barn-like environment that got sweatier the further up you climbed but honestly at this point I feel like that’s part of having an authentic experience at these places.
There was a lot to find – old movie memorabilia, creepy dolls, tons of cutesy country chic decor, a whole room of homemade soaps and body butters, a display cabinet full of dolls who had heavy metal make overs by what I am guessing is a local artist. All gave this place a lot of personality. I loved it. Would highly suggest giving this place a little lookey loo if you’re into these sorts of things.
October might be the usual time for all things blood and gore but this year the festivities started a month early with a delightful musical misadventure. We’d caught this tour as they were going through Nashua NH, stopping at a cute little theater with parking for maybe 10 cars max. That was the first fun part. I’m not at all convinced I didn’t cuddle my Prius up somewhere it wasn’t supposed to be but luckily no one seemed to notice this unauthorized vehicle in the lot we found. The area wasn’t exactly bustling with activity. It was really weird. I used to come to Nashua NH exactly once a year to shop for school clothes at the mall when I was a kid and I remembered it to be this huge scuzzy city. Now coming back to it after I’ve been through Boston and NYC and I found myself intensely underwhelmed. It’s funny how things change.
As I got out of the car I was greeted with snickers and giggles, “Did you remember to bring a change of clothes?”
“For what??” Once again I was either not exactly running with all the information or it’d gone by my ears so long ago I’d forgotten. No, I did not bring a change of clothes, who brings a change of clothes to a play?! I mean I know the play is about a dude with a chainsaw for a hand but… oh god, that sounds messy.
As we walked into the theater they had a raffle going for an odd prize. It was like one of those giant foam sports fingers but instead of a finger it was a chainsaw. Cute. Looking around the audience was presumably a very neurospicy crowd. Tufts of vibrant unnaturally colored hair and funny tee shirts were scattered throughout this gathering like rainbow jimmies on a cupcake. It was nice. You know how much I love my fellow misfits.
Having bought these tickets way the hell in advance we were able to sit front and center. Directly behind a weird black box with tubes coming out of it. Huh. Odd. Is that…. a blood sprinkler? Because the nozzle seemed to be pointed directly at me. Hmmm..
When the play finally started we were treated with a cast delivering only the campiest of lines with the same inflection and unwarranted enthusiasm as a 1950’s film on hygiene. There were enough innuendos, puns, and dad jokes to last a lifetime. And between all the singing and bit humor there was a malcontented tree. Fucking loved that tree. May have been the best character in the play!
And as much as I was loving every cheesy bit of this it still wasn’t gory. By now my purse was tucked under my plastic covered chair hopefully well out of way of the splash zone. We’d all passed up on the offer to buy a $5 poncho. I’d been to the Blue Man Group before, they also sold largely unnecessary ponchos. We’d all take our chances. Then came the infamous chopping off of the hand scene and blood spurted straight into the air on the other side of the audience, like a lawn sprinkler. Pfft. I could handle a little mist like that. Little was I to know that just because of where I was sitting I’d been specially chosen for a blood bath like no other.
I was only halfway expecting it but luckily my reflexes kicked in before my brain did and I closed my mouth and eyes as a geyser of fake blood shot directly at my face, DRENCHED every bit of me, stopped, AND THEN STARTED IN AGAIN. The audience laughed uproariously as I ineffectively held up my hands, not exactly sure what to do. That blood was COLD and I was starting to regret my decision not to wear a bra that night. But you know what? Of all the places to let my titties wander feral and free (as goddess intended) I guess a horror musical is at least fitting. There was no part of my T-shirt, face, pants, and shoes that wasn’t sopping wet by now. Even my hair was dripping and I thought I’d experienced the last of it but no. For comedic effect I got one third blast as I heard my dearest yell-laughing, “OH MY GOD!” Splatter zone my ass, this was a drench zone! And I loved every bit of it. Except maybe the taste. We decided the blood must be unsweetened Kool-Aid. But I get it. Got to use something that’s not too sticky!
You might think that was it but actually that was just the first half of the show. The second half was much bloodier and the sources of the blood were coming from all directions not just the sprinklers. Audience members who thought they were safe 3 rows up were absolutely not safe. I felt a little bad for the two wearing white T-shirts who got drenched as well. But everyone seemed to be really enjoying this absolutely absurd series of events.
We had so much fun and were in very high spirits when we finally left. I found my emergency hoodie in the car and changed in the backseat like a hobo before driving the hour home. I had an absolute blast and would very highly recommend going to see this production if you too love campy horror, unlikely musicals, or just happen to need a bath in Kool-Aid.
Hey hey! I am back after an inevitable health crash to post this final blog entry on the film festival. Such is life!
I attended the third and final day of the HP Lovecraft Short Film Festival which was by far the most popular, the biggest audience we’d seen and they seemed such a lovely assortment of people, some of them completely unexpected like a whole row of little old ladies straight out of church on that Sunday morning. Suffice to say they didn’t last long – just three shorts before the last got too gross for them to continue. But hey! At least they’re out there doing something new! Good for them! Also in the group was a large collection of clearly neurospicy people, a few Goth girls, some gamers, some artists.. it was lovely.
It was such a sweet gaggle of people that my travel companion, and the reason I was here, was trustworthy enough to leave his backpack in a chair to save his seat during intermission. I am not that trusting! Ain’t no way I’m leaving my purse to be pawed through by some ne’er-do-well. My wallet is in there as well as my meds. Not like they’re anything interesting – only if you happen to have a hankering for birth control or antacids but still. Even so the backpack was unmolested when we returned so who knows, maybe I’m the paranoid one here. These were good people. Happy people. Weird people.
Most of the films on the roster were world premieres so that is always fun. They made me want to make my own movie – a wee animated film of baby Cthulhu doing stupid antics to the tune of The Popcorn Song. I could do this. I might even be able to submit it. But I probably should be focusing on less frivolous projects. Food’s getting very expensive!
ANYWAY… where was I? Oh yes, the films! As I have done in Part One and Part Two of this festival, I will now add teasers about each film. No spoilers, promise.
First I’ll detail the feature film: Frogman: A found footage horror about a four foot tall anthropormorphic frog and an entire town that keeps his dirty frog secrets. To the other person in the theater who laughed inappropriately whenever the frogman jumped onto the screen: thank you. I like not being the only psycho in the audience.
The Weaver: Another cougar flick but with boogers.
Disassociation: All those who wander are not lost. Sometimes they’re just trying to rob you.
Our Tell-Tale Heart: There’s a reason the tell-tale heart is so iconic. It’s because it’s still a fucking terrifying idea. This time the cops are coming in.
Play It All Night Long: What happens when you piss off the music demons, stick around and find out.
Death Parts Us: Short, trippy, confusing enough for me to lose my attention span. My bad.
Oddities: As a frequenter of antique stores this one was written for me and my possessed doll loving heart.
Howie’s Flowers: This film was shorter than this sentence but still broke my fucking heart! WHY?!
The Wyrm of Bwich Pen Barras: SO THAT’S what Welsh sounds like! This one had severe folk tale vibes and I goddamn loved it.
The Stool with Pants and Shoes on: Very self-explanatory. Weirdly coherent. Great quirky humor.
Don’t Bother the Neighbors: Tentacles and Kung-Fu or Tentacle-Fu if you will.
Fax Repair and You: Old School special effects show off. Hardcore.
Nosepicker: Illustrating the one unifying concept of humanity: where there are children there will be boogers. Also, a way too literal interpretation of the boogeyman. Did I mention it was gross? So gross. Like very sticky wet gross.
Wizinski’s AC Services: When prank phone calls go wrong.
And that was that! Had a delightful time all three days and even bought a swank T-shirt. It’s got three hares and a human-y standing goat dancing around a campfire in the woods. Very Dionysian. Love it.
Until next time it’s been nice sharing this experience with my fellow weirdos. Much love!
It’s that time of year again! Where all the local eccentrics gather for a good old fashioned scream fest. Or chuckle fit. Depending on if you’re one of those people. And it’s really nice because we can attend this year with a clear conscience since these films are all independent and are not part of any ongoing writer strikes. So, the cute local theater gets their share of attention, the films get theirs, and the whole audience benefits as well. It’s sweet really.
So, who is really attending these things anyway? A surprising amount of people if I am honest and they seem to be from all walks of life. I was even happily surprised by a handful of unrelated black people who showed up. Why? Because HP Lovecraft was apparently just as appalling a racist as he was a horror writer and because of that I can see why most people of color would probably want to stay away. That being said there seems to be a marked effort by these particular fans to be as not racist or shitty as possible with an eye towards diversity as you’ll see later. But really the biggest reason I was so happy to see a few melanin-gifted faces here amongst the crowd is because I think it’s hilarious. I mean if I were black I would make a point to like HP Lovecraft and inspire others to do the same – just to see the poor bastard roll in his grave. But that’s me. Spreader of joyful chaos.
The film festival this year was held at the Columbus Theater with a few other related events at different spots around town that included readings, walking tours, and a few mixers. And let’s not forget the vendors! An assortment of lovely Lovecraftian T-shirts, some horror books, and various delightful arts and novelties were available.
We attended for both blocks of short films as well as the night’s much longer feature which were separated by a small 20-minute intermission. Without spoiling anything I’d like to give some very short “reviews” of each film (more in the spirit of a teaser because they were all wonderful!)
To Fire You Come at Last: A rich 17th century arsehole may or may not get eaten. (This one was British and had some fun twists!)
Night-Gaunts: PUPPETS!!!
Ihruqax: This Swedish film shows a young blind woman just trying to figure out what’s going on when madness starts spreading through her sighted peers.
Dead Enders: Clerks but with facehuggers. And yes, it was just as funny as it sounds.
A King in Yellow: Deaf girl gets foisted into a seriously trippy series of places and events.
Terror: 11 minutes of confusing back-to-back flashbacks. Would not suggest watching if you are prone to seizures.
The Temple: This Canadian film features a bunch of Germans in a U-boat speaking French and being subtitled in English. I know, that shorted out my brain a little bit too. But after the initial confusion it was actually a super decent film!
Then there was the night’s feature film Gods of the Deep which was where a deep-sea submarine fiddled about the ocean’s bum. (Don’t know why this review is in British. I may have had a stroke.) It also answered the uncomfortable question how close you can get to tentacle porn without actually being tentacle porn…
And that was the evening. All and all it was really quite pleasant. I wasn’t at any point scared but I did get a few good laughs, a few may have been at inappropriate times but what can I say? I’m off in the head.
Avery & Dash Collections was so affluent an establishment that they use an ampersand (this little guy &) instead of the word and. We were greeted warmly at the door where I said a cheerful hello to an older lady. Despite my drab appearance that day I usually can pretend I fit in just about anywhere and women in particular are generally happy to accept that I do. Men on the other hand….
There was a very articulately dressed young man in his twenties, tall and lean, who looked at us coming in like we were shit-covered rats. Oh God they let in the Poors. His whole body literally tensed up at the thought and I have never in my life wanted so badly to invade someone’s personal space as I did in that moment. You know, just run up and give him a big bear hug, rub some of those destitution cooties all over his silk shirt. Not wishing to be escorted off the property via cop I behaved, though I did make sure to pass unreasonably close as we walked by.
This place was chic. So fancy! Just… overtly so. But it was more than that. It was playful. Here mixed in with the fine china were crystal dinosaurs set on the table. OK, if you’re the kind of rich that puts crystal dinosaurs out for the dinner guests you’re OK in my book. That’s just hilarious. Obviously, there were pieces of real dinosaurs and other fossils here and there including a sea scorpion which had to have been locally found. I’d never set eyes on one before but I always wanted to.
Here the leopard spot pillows were made of actual leopards. Now I do not condone in any way the hunting of leopards or the use of their gorgeous pelts but when else would I ever get a chance to touch a real goddamn leopard fur? I pet it. It was super course lacking in any softness whatsoever.
This place also had a lot of paintings and other things you’d hang on the wall. Things you’d normally see in a museum. And then a few things that were OBVIOUSLY clever poor people fleecing the rich for all they were worth including a bell jar full of ordinary sea shells for SIX HUNDRED AND NINETY FIVE DOLLARS. Clearly, I’m in the wrong profession. I wanted to meet whoever sold that piece to a place like this. You, my dear, are mypersonal hero.
Onward we went getting more and more engrossed with this place with every breath. It did however have a possibly haunted bathroom. I say this because there wasn’t really anything in it but when I went to leave it there was a HUGE bang like someone had just thrown a dresser at the wall. I looked back, horrified something may have fallen, but there was nothing to fall in this little one stall bathroom. We left soon after. I can take a hint.
If you are fortunate enough to be haplessly sitting on a mountain of cold hard cash this place would be well worth a good poke. And if you’re a Dicken’s styled street urchin like myself you still might have fun seeing just how big the wage gap in the US really is not to mention seeing a lot of things that should live in a museum! I very much enjoyed this place.
Earlier on in the day we had decided to take the long drive to Connecticut to check out an “antique store” that had one review which seemed to be talking about a hiking trail and had a photo of a little dog. This intrigued my travel companion but when we showed up at the listed address it was CLEARLY just someone’s swank driveway. A second choice ended up actually being a super pricey little furniture store that had a big sign reading, “No photography.” Their loss – they would have gotten free publicity from this blog.
Not wanting to have wasted two and a half hours of driving time he picked a third destination which ended up being the Antique and Artisian Gallery and this WAS WORTH IT. It did not look from the outside to be an antique store but looks can be deceiving. In front of a giant artificial hedge wall there was a bunch of garden statuary – most Grecco Roman in style, all with a gorgeous patina, some purposely with missing limbs or heads to be perfect replicas of real statues. It was the sort of thing you might find in a well-manicured hedge maze or flower garden in front of a mansion. Still, we didn’t know just how rich this antique store was, that’d take a few moments more.
The initial room at the entrance still didn’t belie where we had ended up. The antiques here were a continuation of garden statuary and seemed more or less normal faire but beyond that we found a hallway of mirrors and on the wall an intricately painted medieval era wagon back. I had NO IDEA people ever painted wagons with motifs or that they were just as beautiful as actual paintings of the time. It was startling to realize that some parts of the dark ages were… colorful. But who had kept this wooden panel for several hundred years?!?
Beyond this was an absolutely enormous sprawling antique mall with artifacts I was afraid to even breathe on. Above us were chandeliers of every variety, most exactly what you’d think of when the word chandelier comes up, but then there was one in the shape of a ship so obviously I was drawn to it. That’s weird. Turns out it was $36,000 worth of weird. I gasped. I had mentioned earlier that this part of Connecticut is where rich folks from NYC come to be in mansions among the trees but lord, I didn’t realize just how wealthy. I stopped looking at price tags. I didn’t want to jinx myself and break something worth a college education!
I was absolutely delighted that one whole booth and smattered about there was a series of absolutely pristine wooden Victorian birdcages that were just as exquisitely huge and eccentric as the mansions that probably once housed them. Some were even in the shape of castles and this delighted my sense of whimsy. A single live and solitary female Glouster canary moped around in one – surrounded by luxury but lacking any companions she seemed a sad and depressed little creature but not nearly as much as the taxidermized birds under bell jars we started to find!
The fads of the super wealthy often revolve around the “exotic” – that is artifacts from far off lands and or a great distance in the past. This place was a better representation of this than usual with an enormous amount of Chinese pottery. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if there were Ming dynasty vases in there! I didn’t breathe on any of them!
Not to be outdone there were medieval European artifacts of various kinds, a number of Asian religious statues, everything from Buddhas to Vishnu, as well as a bunch of scary masks from around the world. Dolls too. Swanky creepy ethnically diverse dolls from God knows where. Probably deeply cursed. I mean wouldn’t anything with these prices be?
This place was WILD to poke through. It was just soooooo out there to be amongst so much stuff from the likely unreasonably affluent. Like a completely different world. But I mean I do think it’s a good thing to explore things so different from your own existence. You never know what you are going to see or learn. So, if you happen to have Scrooge McDuck level finances or you just want a glimpse into this world check it out! As well as the antique store right next door at Avery & Dash Collections.
Under the Bed Antiques was a fun little adventure. Admittedly I had a hard time finding it. It was much easier to find the mattress store which is above it – which I guess explains the adorable store name! But anyway, it was around the corner and in the basement where there was a few parking spaces and a modest sign.
I have been to so many antique stores by now that I am sort of running out of descriptive words but this place? It had its own feel, and that feel was punk! Punk to the max with a mixing of Kitch and nostalgia. The first thing that greeted us was a Home Alone doll that I am sure was up to something. I mean look at the expression on that face!
Beyond that was a fairly decently sized antique mall with all sorts of delightfully quirky vendors. I was just having so much fun here. Of course there was the usual fare of potentially possessed dolls and creepy clowns but it was absolutely lacking in racist bullshit! And in its place it had some fucking weird music related antiques. Truely bizarre records (which I didn’t look through because I know I’d want them all!) As well as retro clothes ranging from Grateful Dead Bear swimming trunks to punky drainpipes. And then we found the prettiest damn accordion I have ever seen nestled in a corner with a two-foot-tall Joe Camel plushie. Just mental. My companion also noted that every booth was playing different contradictory music which really soothes the chaos demons.
What this place lacked in size it made up in character and I LOVED it. Well worth a visit!
Another antique mall in a mill! And it’s in the same town as our last pick Bernat Antiques.
This place at first seemed very desolate. It has a huge parking lot which was so empty we weren’t even sure if the place was open. But it was… and it was sufficiently large and weird enough for a very satisfying poke.
I always love the places that have surprise extra floors or a basement full of cheaper oddities. This place didn’t disappoint in that department! Mixed in with the usual assortment of cute little glass bottles there was a joyous mixture of ill-titled books, locally created art, some bizarre cast iron banks, tiny pans, and even a dish that looked like an ammonite.
The Wizard of Oz collectable Jack in the boxes were absolute nightmare fuel and I’m all for that. As well as the child sized pantaloons because well, where else are you going to find that?? This place had a real nice mix of things and price ranges depending on the booth that caught your eye. And interestingly enough it also was lacking in racist bullshit. I mean there was some but not nearly as much as I’d expected…
It was another humid day that felt like we were vacationing on a swamp on the sun. Just thick dank air. Still, it was cloudy so maaaaybe we could get away with being outside. MAYBE.
We decided not to go too far and found Fort Barton and the Fort Barton Woods only a few minutes away. It was apparently the spot of the Battle of Rhode Island. Never heard of it? Don’t worry, this was news to me too, maybe because it was ultimately a battle we lost… to the British. I guess we were trying to protect Newport and the whole island from this strategic point but when that didn’t work the British came in and occupied the city instead.
There aren’t really any remnants of the fort left, at least not that I could see, but there was a nice observation tower you could climb and gain a really nice view of the bay and the island beyond and there was ample parking for such a little-known gem.
There were several trails here and maps to help guide the way. We chose the shortest loop path because after getting out of the car we were starting to realize how oppressive and sticky it was out there. We basically raced at a very brisk walk, up and down craggy little hills. It wasn’t the most challenging but at the same time the last thing either of us wanted today was to be fighting against the gravity of various hills. Still, the path was nice. It seemed as if a lot of people had been through here even if it looked at times quite hairy and overgrown. To the side we were even lucky enough to find a wee little cemetery nestled in the woods, protected by stone walls. Most of the monuments seem to have been missing to time but a small handful still stood wearily looking over what appeared to be a farm of some sort. A rooster crowed in the background and melted my heart. I forgot how much I loved that sound.
I was doing pretty good even though I almost immediately started overheating. I was able to make almost the whole loop (which was less than a mile) before I had to sit down. By then I could feel the heat coming off my face like a burner. I was dizzy, disoriented, and knew I was in trouble — yet again. I sat on a cold rock, my feet propped up on another rock. I didn’t have any water so this would have to do. Luckily by then we were really close to the car and I cranked up the AC and went home after recovering for a few minutes.
Despite these difficulties it was very pretty! The overgrowth gave it a sort of fairy like charm. I snapped a few shots with my phone and decided to come back on some cooler day to take the longer loop path.
All and all we learned some history, enjoyed a lot of greenery, somehow avoided a plague of ticks (seriously, take bug spray) and managed to not die of heat stroke. I’d call that a win!
Of all the free little libraries I have visited throughout New England the one at Pickety Place has the most endearing back story and dare I say it’s also by far the most whimsically beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
The story starts in 1786 when this sweet little cottage was built in what I can only guess was wilderness. I don’t have any idea how it’s managed to stay standing (and so loved!) throughout all these years but it still there proudly in the middle of nowhere. It is such a charming and unique setting thatĀ Elizabeth Orton Jones used it as the model for her illustrations in Little Red Riding Hood (Little Golden Books, 1948).
Currently it stands as a restaurant and museum surrounded by the most delightful little flower and herb gardens. It has remained burned into the memories of locals because it’s not just a restaurant, it’s an experience. When I went to find it (looking for the library on the grounds) I was wound down a series of increasingly sketchy dirt roads until I was sure the Prius and myself were going to be eaten by bears. And then out of nowhere appeared this property and it’s weird Byzantine parking lot amongst the trees. Seriously the parking lot was the strangest I’d ever seen.
I did not go on a day the restaurant was open because I was only looking for the library and… well to be frank, I’m way to poor for this sort of thing. I can’t even afford McDonalds on my own much less an experience, but that being said I am told the food is out of this world. I’ve literally never heard anything bad about this place which brings us to the library – that sweet, ornate, library just bursting with love.
The library is made from the stump of a very old and very beloved tree which succumbed to the forces of nature and split in twain during a particularly egregious snowstorm. The tree could not be saved but the mourning process brought forth an idea – what if what remained could somehow be repurposed and given a new sort of life? And that’s how this stunning little library came into existence. The stump was deprived of its bark, stained, hollowed out, and artists were commissioned to create exquisitely carved doors, a stained-glass window for the back, and a roof. I can’t tell you how mesmerized I was by this creation. And I was so honored to leave a signed copy of my book Achilles in Heels in it! But you know what was even more amazing? Someone “caught” my book and left a wonderful review on BookCrossing before “releasing it into the wild” to be captured by someone else. I have donated signed copies of my books to dozens of libraries at this point and this was the first one someone publicly claimed through the Book Crossing program. Can you say my heart nearly exploded in warmth and joy? Because it totally did.
