He’s a large (expensive!) metal sculpture of an osprey on a nest that my late mother bought us over 10 years ago with the understanding he would be mounted on the Barn Mahal when construction was complete.
Sadly, my mother passed away before that happened and Otis has languished on the top floor waiting for deployment ever since.
Unfortunately the nest on which he was sat was unable to be affixed to the barn roof as is … so we had to hire a welder to design a mount which we just now did.
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Said mount, nest and bird needed to go here.
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And that wasn’t an easy task.
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But on a recent overcast day a friend was called and the job started.
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With little to no enthusiasm I may add.
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Finding the right spot to bolt the mount proved tricky and I was sent upstairs to make sure the holes were in the right place.
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Upstairs…
Otherwise known as my spouse’s airplane hangar of crap.
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If there’s empty space, you know my guy is going to fill it. I rarely get up here since the overhead door is heavy and beyond my meager arm strength.
But every time I do make the climb….
I find new (old) things.
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Did we need 4 wooden sleighs?
We did not, but apparently we own them all the same.
Our third and final antique store of the day was the one we set out for in the first place.
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Housed in an old refurbished mill in Waterville it was a wonderful place, full of charm and character.
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Check out that door!
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It was a bright and airy space with well organized dealers.
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I’ve been searching for an old wall phone exactly like this ever since we built the man cave/ Barn Mahal. This one was dirt cheap…. but the broken mouthpiece and missing crank handle were the reason why. 🥺
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My bunions hurt just looking at these shoes.
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A little bird whimsy for your viewing pleasure.
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Here’s the husband, checking out some vintage golf clubs.
And then?
I turned the corner. Which was a big mistake.
Huge.
Because it was there I found the horrors.
Brace yourself.
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Christ.
As if creepy old dolls don’t give me the heebie jeebies when they’re complete… I have to run into the eyeless, hollow headed, zombie babies from Hell.
The husband and I hit another antique store yesterday, but failed to find any appropriate vintage beer or whisky crates for my vinyl collection. (okay, I did see a Budweiser crate but even I have standards)
I’m afraid the search is proving fruitful in only one aspect.
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And that’s enlarging the number of albums I need to house in the first place. But I was happy to find 13 of the same records I lost decades ago. A few covers are in rough shape, but for $2 each I won’t complain.
And lest you think the husband came home empty handed, he found a treasure for the man cave as well.
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A wood bound mixed drink recipe book from 1941.
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It’s a hoot and has some interesting drawings.
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As with anything the husband purchases, he always tells me to look it up and see if he paid too much.
This was the first listing I saw.
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Yikes! I was impressed he only paid $15 until I saw a bunch of others ranging from $20-100.
Good luck wdan1351. If you manage to sell it for that price? Please let me know.
I have a large collection of vintage vinyl albums. It used to number close to 800, but I made the mistake of storing a large portion of them in my MIL’s attic years ago between moves and a leaky roof cut my collection in half. Today, after culling… it’s slightly over 350, and though they’ve been housed in plastic crates for the past 20 years, I recently decided they should be relocated to the man cave in vintage wooden beer or whiskey crates.
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Did I mention my albums are organized alphabetically?
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The Dewar’s scotch crate that I liberated from the husband’s stash (because if he’s not going to give it to the pub, he can give it to me) has A-B.
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When I pick up a few replacements here and there at flea markets?
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Adjustments must be made.
Pickwick Ale?
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C, D, E and F.
Those were the only two alcohol related crates my husband had in his crap treasure filled cellar, so I guess I’ll have to go antique shopping for G through Z.
The husband and I were on our way home from the grocery store the other day when he spotted an antique store he’d never been in. I wondered how that was even possible, but hey… it happens.
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When we walked in, I turned right and he turned left. It wasn’t long before I heard him haggling with the owner so I hightailed it over before things got serious.
Old cash registers. Fancy ones I grant you….
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But with a price tag of $2,500? I gave the husband the evil eye.
When it comes to collecting crap stuff, my husband is the epitome of the phrase ‘the thrill is in the hunt’.
He’ll tirelessly scour flea markets and antique stores for that just right piece of crap treasure….. but once he owns it? It will languish in the closet or be left in a deserted corner to gather cobwebs.
And now?
His cat is displaying the same traits.
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Yes, that’s a half dead mouse.
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And just like his father….
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After he hunts it down, Lord Dudley Mountcatten could care less what becomes of it.
When we travel and drink, the husband likes to get a glass from the bars and restaurants he’s enjoyed. Since we used to do this quite often… we’ve amassed a large collection of glasses. Some of them are in the house but most of them have migrated out to the barn. And though we’ve stuffed the freezer compartment of the beer fridge with frosty ready to fill receptacles….
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There was still a large portion waiting for a home.
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And a whole lotta paper destined for the fireplace.
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Sadly the husband’s aborted little two foot shelves don’t offer much useable space.
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And once the double tap kegerator is installed things will be even tighter.
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.
A medicine man’s turtle shell rattle…
And a warrior’s breastplate.
I admit, even I was clueless here.
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:
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.
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?
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 