Tag Archives: museum

Cape Cod Day 6… Sandwich Glass Museum oddities.

 

Day 6 found us in getting a late start in Sandwich.

 

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At a museum filled with glass.

 

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For 62 years beginning in 1825, Deming Jarvis’s glass factory put this little Massachusetts town on the map.

 

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The history of glass was on display…

 

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And some of it was fascinating.

 

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Parts of the museum are interactive…

 

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And we timed it just right to witness a glass blowing demonstration…

 

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Which I thought I’d videoed, but apparently didn’t.

 

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Either way, the chandelier hanging overhead was impressive. Though I’d hate to have to dust it.

 

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Glass..

 

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Glass.

 

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And more glass.

Well, what did you expect…

 

 

Yes!

 

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Chickens!

 

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Lots…

 

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And lots of glass chickens.

 

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Clearly they knew I was coming.

 

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They were salts…

 

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And paperweights…

 

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Art glass…

 

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And breast pipes.

 

 

Yes.

 

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There was even a bosom shell….

Which I’m sure was very comfortable.

 

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There was also a lily foot shoe..

 

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And the chance to have dinner with a dead man.

Who could pass that up?

 

 

 

 

 

Cape Cod Day 5…. P’town, sand and a museum.

 

Day 5 of our Cape Cod vacation found us driving to the Outer Cape. About as out as you can get and still be on the Cape actually…

 

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Provincetown.

Or P’town as it’s known to the locals.

I’ve heard it’s the place to be in the summer, but it was November and the wall to wall tourists were long gone. Sadly, so was most of the fun as many places were closed for the season. But we managed to have a good time all the same.

As you draw near, you realize it’s unlike other sections of the Cape.

 

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John F. Kennedy designated a National Seashore here…

 

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And there are miles upon miles of unspoiled beach.

 

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As well as some pretty impressive sand dunes along the road.

 

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But it was cool, foggy and threatening rain so we kept driving… keeping an eye out for this:

 

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Thankfully it’s hard to miss on the skyline. Wanting to climb to the top for the fabulous views, I was unaware of the museum at it’s base.

 

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Never one to pass up a museum, we began strolling.

 

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The first thing you notice? Pilgrims.

 

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And Pilgrim history. Figuring it was because they landed up the coast at Plymouth… I had to admit I was shocked.

 

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Whaaaat? You mean my grade school teachers got it wrong…

And I went all the way to Plymouth to photograph a rock for nothing! Yes ladies and gentlemen, the Pilgrims landed in P’town first. And believe me when I say they take that fact very seriously at the museum.

 

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But it wasn’t all Pilgrims.

 

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The building was filled with maritime history…

 

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And a musk ox, like any good museum should be.

 

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There were recreations of a Captain’s ship board quarters…

 

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Which aside from the chamber pot, looked pretty comfy.

 

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As well as his home on land.

 

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There was an antique fire engine…

 

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And a wreath made of human hair.

 

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Because who doesn’t want one of those hanging on their living room wall?

 

 

There were maps of the Cape..

 

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With questionable artwork.

 

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Is it me, or is that Griffon in dire need of a Jane Russell 18 hour bra?

 

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There was some Arctic expedition fashion…

 

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Shoes!

 

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Even a rooster hat…

 

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And a couple of local celebs who clearly knew how to have a good time.

 

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Yes, there was a Mayflower replica…

 

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But it was the antique doll collection that made me want to run screaming from the room.

 

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Holy Hell, those things are creepy.

 

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I mean, come on…

 

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You know this one will be feasting on your flesh long before you’re dead.

 

 

Quick…

Find the monument before she gets hungry.

 

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White Mountains trip Day 6… rock lovers rejoice.

 

What do you do when you wake up to a rainy morning and you’re on vacation in Bethel?

 

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You visit the Maine Mineral and Gem Museum…

 

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Where it’s all about the rocks!

 

 

No, really…. it will be great.

 

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Before we even made it inside there were awesome rocks.

 

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Folded marble? Who doesn’t love that…

 

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And check it, pink girlie rock!

I knew this was going to be good…

So you can imagine my disappointment when we discovered the museum was undergoing renovations and only had one room of rocks open to the public.

One room?

 

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Okay, there was the Maine state fossil.

 

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And one seriously freaky fish.

 

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But….

But…

Only one room of rocks?

 

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Even a chicken sighting didn’t cheer me up.

 

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There weren’t nearly enough fossils.

 

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Or gems  and minerals to satisfy me.

 

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But there were some pretty cool space rocks.

 

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And they were certainly out of this world.

 

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Some of them didn’t even look real.

 

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But they’d make a fantastic kitchen countertop all the same.

 

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Moon rocks rock…

 

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But actual martian rocks?

 

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Disappointingly dull…

The final case held Maine tourmaline.

 

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Hugely popular for jewelry up here.

 

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And in honor of our visit…

 

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I had worn my pair of raw Kyanite bracelets.

 

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Do I know how to coordinate or what?

 

 

A few polished balls later…

 

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And all too soon…

 

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We were done.

 

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We’d seen all there was to see.

 

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Except for the gift store…

 

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Which had some absolutely fabulous jewelry!! With absolutely fabulous prices… and the husband couldn’t get me out of there quickly enough.

 

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But if they ever finish the renovation, I’d go back.

 

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One can never see too many rocks.

Splatter dabs, rat urine and my worst nightmare.

 

I learned a lot on our final walk around the Sedona Heritage Museum.

 

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(I’d ask you to name this rusty piece of crap, but they beat me to it.)

I learned about tent houses.

 

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All the comforts of home.

Not.

 

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And if I needed any more proof that I wouldn’t have made a good settler’s wife?

That’s it right there.

 

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I also learned about big pancakes.

 

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Really big pancakes.

 

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Which got me thinking…

 

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Makes perfect sense to me.

Entering the fruit packing shed that was used when the property was a working orchard..

 

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The husband fell in love with this old machine.

 

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Which I admit was kind of cool.

 

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But I also liked the funky steam punk apple peeler.

 

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Although that first bite has got to be hard on the teeth.

 

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The shed had a lovely old carriage.

And a short film on the history of Sedona.

 

 

There was also some fascinating info on rat urine.

Yes, rat urine.

A woefully under explored topic in most museums…

 

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I often call my husband a pack rat, because he comes home with all sorts of trash treasure as well.

 

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But damn.  20,000 years?

That’s some powerful pee.

 

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And now, our final discovery.

My worst nightmare.

 

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There was a small section on prohibition…

And yes, I may have wept.

 

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Oh…

The horror!

John Wayne and $40 text messages.

 

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This cute little building was next up on our tour of the Sedona Heritage Museum.

 

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Admittedly it didn’t look like much upon entry.

But then the husband saw this…

 

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And I can’t swear to it, but I think he might have orgasmed right then and there.

Me?

 

 

Because as much as I love history, including that of the old west… I despise the old Hollywood westerns. The inaccuracies, the one dimensional characters, the predictable plots? You can have them.

 

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Yes, I know… it’s unAmerican. So sue me. But the soundtrack to my 35 year marriage has been Rio Bravo, Eldorado, and The Sons of Katie Elder.  If  I never see another John Wayne movie?  I will die a happy woman.

 

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But for the husband to be standing in the actual telegraph office building that was used to shoot The Angel and the Badman?

To walk where Wayne walked?

 

 

Yeah, that looks about right.

 

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The studios made a lot of movies in Sedona back in the day, and while the husband was happily reading about the fake west….

 

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I found an early Xerox machine from the real one.

Dare ya to print a copy of your butt on that!

 

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And being a telegraph office, naturally there was telegraph machine.

 

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But holy crap!

I never realized it was so expensive to send a message back then. $40 for a 10 word text? I’d be on the streets in no time flat.

And speaking of the old days…

 

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Yes sir.

You really had to want it.

We’re finally there….

 

Yes, it’s the last full day of the Arizona vacation.

 

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And to think it only took me 43 blog posts to get here.

 

 

Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the ones reading them.

Our day started in an arts and crafts gallery.  Sedona is full of them and not one will allow you take pictures.

So here’s a picture.

 

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I saw the framed blessing below and wished I knew someone who was getting married. It would have made a great gift.

 

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Next stop was the Sedona Heritage Museum.

 

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An unassuming little place tucked away in the canyon…

 

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Do ya see the red rocks in the background?

Huh?

Do ya?

 

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The husband happily strolled around outside and examined rusty things.

 

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There were lots of them.

 

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Including one I could identify but he couldn’t.

 

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Name That Crap.

Go….!

 

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The museum building itself began as a one room cabin and eventually morphed into an early settler’s ranch. It was filled with antiques original to the house, memorabilia and history of a bygone age.

Naturally they wouldn’t let you take pictures.

 

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So here are some pictures.

 

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Yes, that’s part of an authentic chuck wagon from the old west. A piece of tin was folded down from the back and held up by a timber. This acted as the kitchen counter for the camp cook… because really, how much space do you need to make beans?

 

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There were numerous out buildings to tour including this one that was filled with,

Well…

 

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Rusty crap.

But then in the back I saw…

 

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What?

 

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Yes.

The world’s only teal arches.

 

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I know.

Teal arches.

Remember, you saw it here first.

Armadillo eggs, mammoth bones… and shoes.

 

After our disappointing visit to the  (guess I’m not so clever after all)  corner in Winslow, we noticed there was a local museum down the road. Small town museums are usually a hoot, filled with ridiculous stuff only the locals care about… and we try never to miss one.

But first, lunch.

Because otherwise Martin will unfriend me.

 

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There weren’t a lot of choices in dear old Winslow, so we picked the one that said beer.

 

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Not that I could drink since my no alcohol order was still in place…but it was probably a good thing, because the beer list was annoying.

 

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Instead of… what?

The beer gets… what?

 

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Fresh orchard like …  what?

Open ended sentences do not make me want to order your beer, they make me want to bounce your menu writer’s face off the bar a few times and then force him to finish his description.

And don’t get me started on naming the beers piehole and sex panther. There’s such a thing as trying too hard.

The decor? Early junkyard.

 

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Our hightop table was an upended road sign.

Chipping paint no extra charge.

 

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The menu?

It had the required Eagle references, and some truly awful sounding food.

 

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Armadillo eggs?

Thank you…. No.

 

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The southwest burger I ordered rare was a well done hockey puck… and just about as tender.

 

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The husband’s Caesar salad? A giant bowl of husks.

 

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Thankfully the museum turned out to be much more palatable.

 

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We were greeted by a local woman who gave us the entire history of the town, whether we wanted it or not.

Once a booming Santa Fe railroad stop, and then a profitable Route 66 destination… the town fell on hard times when families stopped piling the kids in station wagons and hitting the road in search of the World’s Largest Ball of Twine. If it weren’t for the Eagles and their silly song, the place would have dried up and blown away long ago.

 

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Mammoth bone.

Because I promised.

 

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Native American beaded shoes.

Because… shoes!

 

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There was a still.

 

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And a box.

I told you this would be fascinating stuff….

 

 

Have you ever heard of the Harvey Girls?

 

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I admit I hadn’t, and my mind is full of  perfectly useless nonsense  trivia so that’s saying something.

(Pay attention… tomorrow’s post will include an actual Harvey House.)

 

 

Naturally, there was a locally famous Harvey girl.

 

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And some of her dresses.

 

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There was also an advertisement that pretty much says all you need to know about Winslow, Arizona.

 

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What’s not to love?