He volunteers, I do all the work.

 

So we’ve established my husband is a collector of  vast piles of junk,  boatloads of crap,  too much rusty old stuff,  some eclectic treasure.

Lots of people know this, and think being an antique expert goes hand in hand.

 

 

They constantly give him items and want a full history,  description of use,  plus what it’s worth.

Problem is….. more often than not he has no frickin’ clue.

 

 

Which is when he hands it off to me.

I research, investigate, and compare so he can go back and look knowledgeable. Which leads to more people giving him more items to identify. It’s a vicious circle.

*Note to self – stop researching, investigating and comparing*

Last month he came home with two items that were beyond even my scope of reference.

Supposed Native American artifacts.

 

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A medicine man’s turtle shell rattle…

 

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And a warrior’s breastplate.

 

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I admit, even I was clueless here.

 

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His friend gave him some accompanying paperwork that was, to say the least….. a wee bit strange. It was a statement from a man named Silver Wolf who said he saw the items at an antique show 10 years ago and was then visited in his dreams by the original owner Red Hawk, who lived in the late 1700’s.

Okaaay.

A man named Ernie then purchased the rattle, and took it to a Pow Wow to “awaken it”. A red tail hawk flew overhead during the ceremony and apparently that was the spirit of the original owner.

Okaaay.

Later, a chief said the rattle had a person named Many Eyes bound inside of it and the spirit needed to be set free.

So, yeah.

How the hell do you research that?

I tried. And the closest I came was this:

 

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Pretty damn close. (Red tailed hawk and trapped spirit not withstanding.)

As for breastplates? They’re everywhere… in hundreds of designs, made with multiple materials, some old, some new and I have no utter clue how to differentiate.

So I went to the Maine State Museum….

Where no one had a clue either.

 

 

But they gave me the name and email address of a supposed expert…. so I contacted her and sent photos.

This was her response:

 

Boy. I’m not the expert, At All. The breast plate looks modern to me, but don’t take my word for it! And I have never seen a rattle like that so I really can’t judge. It could be Plains, but equally, could be new. It looks dirty, as opposed to worn, which sets off alarms for me. 

That said, I am NOT that versed. If you want to talk to someone who is, my ex-husband is very knowledgable.

Best of luck in your search!

And thank you for thinking of the Maine State Museum.

 

 

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So after wasting more time than I thought possible on this, I was done.

I passed along what I learned to the husband to give to his friend, with the expert’s ex husband’s phone number, and called it a day.

The next morning after having breakfast with his friend? The husband came back with the items and said his friend wanted me to sell them for him.

What???

No!!

Personally… if the items are real Native American artifacts? I’d give them back to the tribe of origin, or at the very least a museum. So much Native culture has been bought and sold over the years, I felt bad even having them at our house.

And if they’re reproductions? You wouldn’t get any serious money for them so why bother.

This is what happens when your husband can’t tell his friend no.

It’s a simple process…. and one I need him to learn.

 

 

See?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Have you ever….

 

Tried to photograph 4 fawns frolicking around your back yard… at dusk…. through a window?

It’s not easy.

And most of your shots come out looking like this:

 

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Or this:

 

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They look rather like ghost deer…

 

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But I assure you they were corporeal beings.

 

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They just rarely stand still.

 

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Or face the camera.

 

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The video is poor quality, and a bit shaky…. although it gets slightly better halfway through.

But you’ll see what I mean about frolicking.

 

 

Multiple Bambis!

There.

You have now fulfilled your cuteness quota for the day.

Things I don’t like today.

 

A switch from my regular happy to be alive posts.

 

 

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I don’t like….

Being bitten on the hand by a horse fly while mowing the lawn and having it swell up to 5 times it’s normal size.

 

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Hot, stiff and throbbing.

And not in a good way.

 

 

I don’t like….

Being bitten on the ankle by a horse fly the next day and having it swell up to epic proportions as well.

WTH?

 

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Did one of you clowns stick a Bite Me sign on my back…

 

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I don’t like….

Being late to lunch with friends because I lost the husband to yet another junk filled yard sale he just couldn’t drive by.

 

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He came back with a bag… and I didn’t even want to know what was in it.

 

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I don’t like….

The fact that the husband owns a chain saw.

 

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This birch tree had one bad section… one.

So bye bye entire tree.

 

 

Nothing is safe. Except the two dead flowering plum trees I’ve been after him to cut for years. Those?

He leaves alone.

I don’t like….

 

 

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Going out to check on the baby catbird nest and finding momma’s feathers on the ground…

 

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And an empty nest knocked loose from the bush.

Poor little things.

I don’t like….

Things that come in threes. First our  too new to die damn it  refrigerator, then my car’s air conditioner, and now the husband’s truck’s air conditioner. There’s a conspiracy afoot to make me sweat.

 

 

I really, really don’t like that!

 

 

 

Fun at the fair…. and balls.

 

We hadn’t been to the Topsham Fair in years, and after going the other day I remembered why.

Maine has some fabulous county fairs….. but this isn’t one of them.

With a $12 charge per person to get in? There should have been more… everything.

 

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We started with the livestock, because I do love me some critters.

 

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I got up close and personal with sheep….

 

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While the husband chatted up a cow.

 

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This cow was lying down.

 

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As was her owner…

 

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And it took all my willpower not to yell at him to drop his phone and learn how to spell her name properly.

 

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Sorry El….

 

 

This cow had a little speck of something on her nose…

 

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Which proved to be no problem.

 

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Yes, that’s her tongue. And she knew how to use it.

 

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Did you know…

 

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Cows can’t vomit?

I live to enlighten.

 

 

 

We saw ox, and horses.

 

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Some huge.

 

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Some small.

We saw pigs…

 

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With lots of baby pigs…

 

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And goats..

 

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With some pretty big…

 

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Sorry…. but holy crap!

 

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How do you walk with balls that big?

 

 

We strolled around looking for the chicken barn….

Only to discover there wasn’t one.

Very disappointing.

 

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And then we walked past the “Decorate a Bale of Hay” contest.

 

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Which… yeah.

 

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Was a bit odd.

 

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I temporarily lost the husband to some old rusty crap.

 

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And found him checking out some sweet old vehicles for sale.

 

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We meandered through the collection of carriages and sleighs which we always love…

 

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And found a cannon…

 

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With a strategically placed ball.

 

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In a sack.

Tell me someone doesn’t have a sense of humor….

 

 

We made the obligatory walk through the exhibition hall.

 

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But the Blue Ribbon rhubarb failed to thrill.

And aside from the carnival rides we didn’t ride and the roach coach junk food that we didn’t eat, that was it….

Until I spotted George.

 

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And fell in love.

 

 

I mean… look at him!

 

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George is an Emu.

 

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Homely…

 

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Humble..

 

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And despite the prehistoric raptor like gaze, quite friendly.

Here’s some riveting video of him drinking water.

 

 

And a little something closer up.

 

 

He’s over 6 foot tall, with coarse dense feathers.

Yes, we bonded…. and I petted him.

Totally worth the $12 admission price.

 

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I admit, it made me look.

 

I walked by my window the other day and had to do a double take.

Across the road on our neighbor’s organic vegetable farm, the seasonal workers were weeding a garden patch. Most summers there are Mexican field hands, but because of the new immigration policies of He Who Will Remain Nameless… this year the workers are Jamaican.

 

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Now, I’ve never been to Jamaica.

 

 

But I’m going to go out on a limb here…

 

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And say this isn’t their new fashion trend.

 

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Yes, that is what you think it is.

 

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Cardboard.

 

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With a hole in the middle for your head.

 

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I particularly like the fact that he flipped up the cut out hole section.. and left it there. Like a pot lid.

 

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Jamaican cardboard hats.

Coming to a mall near you?

 

 

Remember… you saw it here first.

Too good not to share…

 

I was cruising FB the other day and saw a post from a realtor friend of mine.

It was a collection of mondo bizarro things agents find in homes they’re hired to sell and it was too damned funny not to share.

So Part 1 starts now.

 

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For those days when it’s too damned hot to actually go outside and jump in the pool.

 

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My husband once put a desk together backwards, so this really cracks me up.

 

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Aside from the glaringly obvious yellow vomit color scheme?

There are way too many eyes in this bathroom for me to be comfortable doing my business.

 

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Curtains.

They’re not just for windows anymore…

 

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When you want carpet in the bedroom, and your other half doesn’t.

 

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I haven’t decided if this is a living room in a bathroom… or a bathroom in a living room. But either way?