Tag Archives: collectibles

Day 15… Small bathrooms and antique store Hell, where River reexamines how much she really loves her husband.

 

I woke up on our last full day of vacation in Williamsburg, Virginia  (Yes, we’re finally there!)  cursing our second resort’s small bathrooms.

 

IMG_2354

 

I mean… come on.

For a girl with big hair this is a very small space to make the magic happen.

And the shower?

 

IMG_2355

 

One teeny tiny shelf!

I had to put the rest of my things on the floor.

 

imagesZS9Y1V9U

 

We started the day at the husband’s favorite breakfast spot where he was now greeted with ”The guy who wants two plates of chipped beef on toast is here”.

 

IMG_2356

 

And seeing that we’d had 2 full weeks of doing everything I wanted to do, I thought it prudent to throw the husband a bone and let him pick our last day’s activities.

 

IMG_2358

 

As expected, that bit me in the ass.

 

IMG_2383

 

He chose the Williamsburg Antique Mall… and let me tell you, that’s a whole lotta mall.

I have never in my life seen so much  useless crap  stuff  in one place. It went on forever, aisle after aisle after aisle. The husband was in heaven.

 

IMG_2367

 

Oh, there were some interesting things.

 

IMG_2359

 

And some seriously hideous things.

 

IMG_2362

 

It was hard, but I managed to pass on this quartz rooster head.

 

IMG_2360

 

And the Christmas tree in a shoe.

 

IMG_2365

 

But damn, at the one hour mark we’d only managed to cover a little corner of the place.

 

 

The building was so huge it had push button call stations for help because it was too damned long a walk back to the front to find a sales clerk.

 

IMG_2368

 

Two hours in there was a drunken Santa….

 

IMG_2371

 

And some of the money the husband used during the Vietnam War.

 

IMG_2364

 

Three hours in there was a pair of wolves on skis…

 

IMG_2374

 

The ice cube trays I cursed with every breath as a child….

 

IMG_2372

 

And some questionable artwork complete with psychedelic chickens.

 

IMG_2361

 

Four hours in there were Civil War era hats and a saleslady who gave me a piece of paper to write down the aisle number, the booth number, the case number and a description of each article we had questions about because no one ever remembers what was where. If you look in the upper left hand corner of the picture you’ll see my hand clutching it.

And no, I wasn’t going to give it to the husband …. I’m not stupid.

The husband?

Happier than the proverbial pig in shit.

 

IMG_2380

 

Rusty tools….

Rusty tools everywhere!

 

IMG_2376

 

I passed on more vintage chickens.

 

IMG_2375 (1)

 

And wondered who this wide eyed Santa was going to poke with that…. that….

Whatever the heck that was.

At the four and a half hour mark I had to use the rest room.

 

IMG_2363

 

Where I did indeed flush my hopes and dreams of ever leaving this place down the toilet.

 

IMG_2395

 

There was definitely something for everyone.

 

IMG_2378

 

Even if some of the price tags made you gasp.

Five hours in I told the husband I was too hungry to continue and we needed to go get some lunch.

 

IMG_2389

 

Yeah.

My worst nightmare came true….

They had a cafe.

 

imagesXNQTNG8U

 

Where we had tiny overpriced sandwiches and frozen solid fruit to fortify us for more hours of antique shopping.

 

IMG_2390

 

 

It was at this point I knew we’d never leave.

I was doomed.

 

IMG_2373

 

Too late for that warning…. the husband has had it for years.

 

IMG_2369

 

He was bound and determined to see every last item in this store or die trying.

And by this time I was happily planning his demise.

 

IMG_2391

 

Yikes.

Paging Morticia Addams….

 

IMG_2384

 

And holy crap.

Who in their right mind wants that hanging on their wall?

 

IMG_2399

 

Six hours in I found a bug collection….

 

IMG_2393

 

Some chicken humor…

 

IMG_2388

 

And part of the line to check out.

These people took a number…. and have probably been waiting since June 13, 1976.

 

IMG_2370

 

But the husband was still going strong.

 

IMG_2403

 

And if I told you how many rusty old pesticide sprayers we have in the barn already? You’d fear for my safety.

 

IMG_2405

 

Here’s proof positive there’s a magazine for everything.

 

IMG_2400

 

And a painting that contains fish bones.

You’re welcome.

 

IMG_2406

 

SEVEN HOURS  in and we weren’t even 2/3’s of the way through.

 

IMG_2404

 

I knew he wasn’t going to leave without buying something, but by then I’d reached my limit of  utterly useless crap  antique shopping.

I was on board with the old phone. It could have been fun in the barn…. when he builds that bar he keeps talking about.

You know, the bar he can’t build because he has too much utterly useless crap  stuff in the way.

 

IMG_2402 (2)

 

Eight hours in?

I was silently screaming FFS….just pick something and let’s go!

Or maybe I said it out loud, I can’t remember.

 

IMG_2408

 

So there it is, the result of 8 hours of antique mall shopping.

A giant glass water bottle to add to the other 20 or so giant glass water bottles he currently has collecting cobwebs.

 

 

I love him.

I do.

And as long as I keep telling myself that I’ll be fine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A little drip now and then….

 

Leaking roof saga continued.

Winter is the worst possible time in Maine for your roof to spring a leak … so of course, that’s exactly what’s happened.

Remember when I said I’d cringe every time it rains?

 

 

That’s the sound of me cringing.

It poured the other day… and so did our ceiling.

 

IMG_2897

 

So much so I had to add another pan.

Which drove the husband nuts when he came home…. and because he’s a man and had to do something?

 

IMG_E2879

 

Yeah. He decided to climb up into the attic to see where it was leaking.

Naturally this isn’t as easy as climbing a set of stairs… because no.

Here at Casa River, we like a challenge.

 

IMG_2909

 

The den closet, home to an overflow of the husband’s useless crap  treasure.

(Yes, he collects old wooden hangers. Don’t you?)

 

IMG_2873

 

Half of one side had to be emptied and strewn all over the room….

 

IMG_2872

 

Because the only way to access the crawl space we call an attic is to remove all the shelving and climb up a hole at the top of the closet.

 

IMG_2871

 

A design paradigm we curse the builders for quite often.

 

IMG_2876

 

It’s a bit of a nightmare getting up there.

 

IMG_2878

 

And no, the husband didn’t appreciate me making a Kodak moment out of the experience.

 

IMG_E2884

 

He wasn’t thrilled that I stuck my head up through the hole to offer advice either.

Men. There’s no pleasing you.

 

IMG_2885

 

But look… I found an antenna from the 1970’s!

 

IMG_E2889

 

Did I mention there’s no actual floor up there? Just a few scattered pieces of particle board that break when you kneel on them.

 

IMG_E2887

 

So after scuttling around like a crab and lying on his back…

 

IMG_E2888

 

And pointing his flashlight near the section of the roof of the addition you can’t access from the crawl space, he did find where the water was coming in. Halfway up the peak, and running down the beams…. which we can find absolutely no reason for.

 

IMG_E2891

 

Doesn’t this look like fun?

 

IMG_E2893

 

Especially since there’s not a damned thing you can do about it until spring when you can rip off the shingles to find the bad spot.

 

IMG_2899

 

Meanwhile I’ll have this lovely and ever expanding wart to look at.

And every time I do?

I hear a cash register.

Ka-ching!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A bridge too far.

 

It’s bad enough my husband stops at every yard sale he sees.

 

57c5bda2c0c30

 

It’s bad enough he comes home from the dump with more than he went with.

It’s bad enough he built a giant barn and filled it with useless stuff before it was completed.

 

better-not-throw-that-away-hoarding-memes

 

But what happened the other day?

Is a bridge too far.

We woke up, had a lovely breakfast, went outside and saw something on the barn porch. I didn’t think it was a good something…

But the husband dragged it inside before it could run away.

 

IMG_8364

 

Yeah.

 

IMG_8363

 

Someone left an old sewing machine.

 

IMG_8362

 

Complete with original boxes of accessories….

 

IMG_8359

 

And owners manual… with free mouse turd. Ack!

We have no idea who committed this heinous crime…. but when I find out?

They will feel my wrath.

 

 

The husband needs no help finding old worthless junk!

So please… I beg you.

Bypass our porch and take your crap to the dump next time!

(Though not the one in our town, or any neighboring towns where he’s apt to shop.)

 

 

 

 

Oh, good grief.

 

Try as I might to avoid it, sometimes I have to go upstairs in our barn.

This usually forces me to emit a heavy sigh over the husband’s new acquisitions.

You know,  the ones he snuck in there without me noticing.

 

IMG_5945

 

While I was pleasantly surprised to see he’d done a little organizing (read – shoved everything to the sides) and the floor was visible this time….

 

IMG_5944

 

And also delighted to see a small section of crap had been put on a shelf.

A shelf!

 

 

(What? You don’t collect dusty old water stained cardboard boxes half full of rusty rivets and tacks…

Why ever not?)

A groan did escape me when I saw more bed frames….

 

IMG_5942

 

And old rusty pesticide sprayers…

 

IMG_5943

 

As well as whatever the hell this is in front of the vintage cabbage slicers.

 

IMG_5946

 

I’m thinking I should make him use that in the baby barn to level out the dirt floor.

You know, as penance for bringing the damn thing home in the first place.

 

 

I  wish I knew.

And if you’re thinking to yourself, geesh River, that didn’t look so bad…. let me point your eye downstairs where it looks like this:

 

IMG_9780

 

And this:

 

IMG_9781

 

And this:

 

IMG_9778

 

Enough said.

 

 

The baby nightmare continues…

 

Baby barns.

Totally not worth the trouble.

 

 

 

When last we left our intrepid deconstructor, he had finished the back side of the main building and was moving around to the side.

 

IMG_6436

 

Please note that his loyal wife and help mate was not thrilled to see a large pile of dirt growing ever larger on her lawn.

 

IMG_6442

 

Problem #1 this past weekend?  The husband had so much  junk, crap, useless rusted nonsense   treasure stored in that section, he had no room to work.

Of course, he assured me it was all wonderful stuff.

 

IMG_6445

 

I assured him it was not.

 

IMG_6439

 

What? Why? How much….

 

 

I didn’t even want to know.

 

IMG_6441

 

Yes…. that’s a filthy old door with a mail slot that weighs roughly 5,000 pounds.

No… I have no idea why he has it.

 

IMG_6444

 

But if you need 2 rusted iron frames for your wooden wagon wheels?  He’s your man.

Although on second thought, he never parts with anything… ever. So I guess you’re out of luck.

You might have noticed this jewel in the previous photo…

 

IMG_6437

 

I think it’s an ancient torture device from the early 14th century.

I know it damn near broke my back dragging it across the lawn to the big barn where it will now gather more cobwebs.

It’s days like these that I have to keep telling myself…

 

4fe8b049689a1

 

I really do.

Because otherwise? I’d kill him…

And I don’t think they’d let me blog from prison.

 

 

 

 

 

My only question is… why?

 

I never know what I’ll find in my husband’s barn.

The other day? I found this hanging on the wall….

 

IMG_5851

 

After I was through shuddering, I named it Creepy Baby.

Because, it’s a baby. And it’s creepy. I swear it’s eyes follow me around the room, and you know that never ends well.

I also saw this perched on the window sill.

 

IMG_5535

 

Yes….

 

 

It is what you think it is.

 

IMG_5536

 

The question is….

 

 

As a decorative item, it leaves a lot to be desired.

 

xy0edl6e09h11

 

And I can only hope the mechanism used to make it go boom isn’t in there as well.

But with my husband?

You never know.

 

 

 

 

Please don’t tell my husband.

 

At one time or another my husband has collected all of the following:

Bottles, playing cards, coins, rusty farm implements, stamps, egg coddlers, antique mitre saws, Life magazines, Coca Cola memorabilia, post cards, baseball bats, radios, toy cars, fishing lures, vintage board games, alabaster eggs, crackle glass, razors, old telephones, fire extinguishers, glass oil jugs, wooden hangers, milk crates, Fenton, mason jars, books, Tinker Toys, sleds, bean pots, grain scales, wooden skis, haying forks, lamp fixtures, cigar boxes, pencil sharpeners, apple peelers, grinding wheels, cast iron skillets, flour sifters, fishing rods, tennis rackets, flashlights and egg beaters.

 

great-scott-thats

 

And no, I’m not exaggerating.

The sad part is, that’s probably not the entire list… but I’m cringing just thinking about it and had to stop. Or slaughter him in his sleep, and who needs that mess on a weeknight.

Kidding!

I think…

For the past 35 years if someone was selling it? He was buying it. And as soon as he had one? He wanted more. To which my response was always..

 

not-another-one-your-a-coin-collector-arent-you

 

We currently have an apple press, a wooden washing machine, a butter smoothing table, a potato planter and two 5 foot tall wagon wheel frames in our barn.

Why?

My answer is –

 

 

His answer is –

 

 

So when I read there’s now a market for old Kool Aid packets, and they’re selling for hundreds of dollars a piece?

 

that-would-be-great-kill-me-meme

 

It’s true.

 

kool aid

 

It’s beyond ridiculous.

And if any of you tell my husband?

I will hunt you down and rip your tongue out through your nose.

 

 

 

P.S….

If the late 80’s and early 90’s are vintage…

What the hell am I?

 

 

Answer to Name That Crap

 

I can see I’m going to have rummage around in the cellar and break out some more difficult pieces of crap for you to name.

Apparently this was too easy.

The crap…

 

IMG_0576

 

Is a White Cross Electric Vibrator.

 

IMG_0591

 

Model #25, circa 1917.

 

vib_whitecross

 

Husband’s didn’t come in a complete set…

 

7891bed39d09fb0f56bdf6c877b61fba

 

Or with any of the fun original advertising…

 

vib

 

But you get the idea.

“In vibration there exists many of the secrets of life” ?

 

440px-Faradic-galvanic-toning-1909

 

Maybe I should fire that puppy up some day.

 

 

Congrats to Boo and Rusty.

Who win…

Absolutely nothing!

Except the right to say you know your crap.

Bravo!