Tag Archives: museum

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?

Stay Spot. Stay….

 

The Fairbanks museum has something for everyone.

 

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Samurai helmets?

 

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And swords?

 

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Check.

 

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And for those who are as fascinated as I am with the rich  history of Japan…

 

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There were dinosaur fossils…

 

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And mastodon obedience training manuals….

 

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Somehow I doubt that turned out well.

 

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There were more dead fine feathered friends..

 

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And a display about sheep back in 1840…

 

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Which begs for the old saying –

Vermont! Where men were men.

And the sheep were afraid.

 

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Although from the look of the numbers, maybe the men should have been afraid.

 

 

The rotating exhibit was a collection of photography from rural Vermont.

 

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They were quite good, but I won’t bore with you with photos of photos…

 

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Except for this one.

 

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That was my reaction too.

I was beginning to rethink my  “Isn’t Vermont a quaint place to live?”  attitude. I mean, really? Who cuts off their wife’s hands, nails them to the barn door and then photographs them?

Who?

 

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Slightly mollified, although vowing never to look at a muskrat the same way… we moved on.

Inching ever closer to the famous bug art.

 

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Yes, apparently it’s quite famous in these parts.

 

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And in case you just can’t wait till tomorrow’s post…

 

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Here are a few beauties to keep you company.

 

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(The bugs, not me.)

 

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You’re welcome.

More Fairbanks oddities….

 

As we made our way down the left side of the top floor of the museum, we encountered a replica of my Monday morning hairdo…

 

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And an  outfit to wear on a Match.com date  entire coconut fiber set of armor.

 

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Yes, coconut.

 

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And fish skin. What’s not to love?

 

 

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I’m not sure that puffer fish helmet would have deflected many blows, but it does have a certain punk rock era appeal.

 

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And as I was oohing and ahhing over the Egyptian section…

 

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I do love me some mummies and canopic jars.

 

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(Not sure where to put your intestines after death? The ancient Egyptians gave a whole new meaning to kitchen canning.)

And then, I saw it.

Across the rail… on the other side.

 

 

Be still my heart!

 

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Could it be?

 

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Yes!

 

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A giant bug sculpture.

 

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And an entire section of bug art!

 

Bug art?

 

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I could hardly contain my delight!

I wanted to run right over, but forced myself to breathe deeply and finish the rest of the museum first.

 

 

I know, I know.

Good things come to those who wait….

Move to Venus, lose 25 lbs.

Admit it, doesn’t that sound more appealing than exercising and giving up cheese for the rest of your natural born days?

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According to the scale at the Fairbanks Museum Planetarium….

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You’ll lose 25lbs on Venus, 107lbs on Mars… and damn Sam!

149lbs on the moon.

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Someone get me Elon’s number, I need to book a flight.

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So yes, the planetarium show.

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It was fabulous. Full of stunning arrays of the solar system and the night sky.

Shame you won’t get to see any of it…

Because once again, cameras were banned.

*Note to self – do not search Giphy for the word boo.

The results will not be what you are expecting.*

Moving on…

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The second floor of the museum was devoted to cultural oddities from around the world.

And of course the building itself was weirdly wonderful.

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The woods were glorious, and that’s a barrel vaulted ceiling. An engineering marvel of it’s day.

Glass display boxes circled the railings….

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And were filled with marvelous pieces of weird history.

Because really, isn’t that the best kind?

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Everything a girl could want was in those cases… jewelry.

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Hair accessories….

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Manicure extenders….

And shoes!

There were shoes!

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Native American moccasins….

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And Chinese Lily Feet slippers….

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Which I have always had a morbid fascination for.

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Heck, I complain about bunion pain….. can you imagine having your feet deformed like this on purpose?

I love me some shoes.

But even I don’t love them that much.