Over the past few weekends, we have been visiting nearby towns and their 'antique' stores, or more accurately, their old stuff stores. Believe it or not, I enjoy these shops (in moderate doses), and in general, the older/junkier the better. Nominally we were searching for a pair of lamps, but you know the old saying about trash/treasure, so I really do go at it as a treasure hunt.
The character of these shops is very nearly as varied as their offerings. Sometimes the building styles are more interesting than the merchandise. Many shops are in barns or similar buildings, but in some cases they are just open sheds or outdoor tables. Apparently rust is not considered a defect in old stuff! Another strange, but typical characteristic is that we have yet to find a level floor in any of them. Most have been almost clean, but we've visited a couple where the accumulated dust nearly obliterates the printing on the labels.
So far we have limited our purchases of these treasures to trinkets. One purchase, however,is too funny not to relate. We have been searching for a pair of table lamps. Pat has spent hours, to no avail, on the internet trying to find (at first) just the right pair, and then just any pair that would work without a price like a big screen TV. In one barn shop, we saw a pair of milk-glass and wood lamps with a diamond - relief pattern in the glass globes. What made them intriguing, , was that the indented pattern in the glass were highlighted with a dark lines, creating a strong cross-hatched pattern. At first, we didn't buy them, but later Pat and a visiting friend went back and bought them. At half of the sale price, they seemed to be quite a deal.
After getting home and inspecting these beauties, they decided to clean them with water and a brush. To their shock, the dark lines (remember - this is their signature feature) began to smear and then come off in flakes. On closer examination (and a good light), they discovered it was dirt! We are still guessing at how it got into the grooves so neatly and without being all over the lamp. Most probably, someone tried to clean them with a towel rather than a brush. Despite the drastic change in appearance, they still look pretty good. However, their unique feature, not to mention their chance at being on Antique Road Show, has been lost forever!!!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
How far out are the sticks?
Despite the dirt roads and dense woods in back of our house, I don't really feel like I'm living "out in the sticks", as we used to say in Arkansas. There are about 10 houses within a quarter mile or so, and there is a good network of roads in all directions, even though many are dirt.
Before coming here, we spent very little time on dirt roads. Most of my images of dirt roads were from rural Arkansas in the 50's, so they included ruts, washouts, one lane and dusty. None of those apply here. The dirt roads are a hard-packed mixture of delivered dirt and gravel, which produces a smooth, all-weather surface. In fact, pat had to get out of the car before she believed they weren't asphalt. Roads are watered regularly when it is dry, and graded quickly when wash-boards or other problems appear. Even our little road, which serves only about ten houses, has already been graded twice this summer.
In some places, the costs of maintaining asphalt roads has caused towns to 'return' some roads to dirt. In addition to the higher costs of maintaining, dirt roads are apparently easier to deal with in the winter and less subject to damage by salt. About the only real disadvantage is a dirty car. However, everyone else has a dirty car too, making clean look just a tad pretentious. So being dirt don't hurt, except for the feelings of those who live on them and don't like the conversion.
Road maintenance here is about a six-month season. Little can be done during the cold months, especially after the ground freezes. Given this, I had expected to see large scale equipment on even the smaller projects. Was I surprised. An interstate overpass has been under rennovation most of the season. One reason has been the small scale of the equipment. On several days, I've seen workers using small hand operated power tools to remove old asphalt and clean the surface. Once a worker was patching the concrete with a hand trowel!. Despite this small scale, the repairs are first rate. Water proof linings protect the bridge structure (salt will dissolve concrete), and there is a double layer of new asphalt.
All this may suggest that I spend a lot of time as a sidewalk (or roadside) superintendent, but not so. The overpass work is on the main road into St. J, so we cross it several times a week. There literally are no stores in Waterford! The closest is a gas-station - convenience store about four miles "down the hill".
No longer do I make a quick trip to the hardware store or a food store. Groceries, hardware, prepared food, church, and just about everything else requires a trip either to St. Johnsbury or to Littleton NH. Although this is a nuisance, especially when you remember what you forgot on the way home, there is an upside - absolutely NO traffic, crazed drivers or un-synchronized lights to create problems or raise your blood pressure. That is worth the extra miles.
Before coming here, we spent very little time on dirt roads. Most of my images of dirt roads were from rural Arkansas in the 50's, so they included ruts, washouts, one lane and dusty. None of those apply here. The dirt roads are a hard-packed mixture of delivered dirt and gravel, which produces a smooth, all-weather surface. In fact, pat had to get out of the car before she believed they weren't asphalt. Roads are watered regularly when it is dry, and graded quickly when wash-boards or other problems appear. Even our little road, which serves only about ten houses, has already been graded twice this summer.
In some places, the costs of maintaining asphalt roads has caused towns to 'return' some roads to dirt. In addition to the higher costs of maintaining, dirt roads are apparently easier to deal with in the winter and less subject to damage by salt. About the only real disadvantage is a dirty car. However, everyone else has a dirty car too, making clean look just a tad pretentious. So being dirt don't hurt, except for the feelings of those who live on them and don't like the conversion.
Road maintenance here is about a six-month season. Little can be done during the cold months, especially after the ground freezes. Given this, I had expected to see large scale equipment on even the smaller projects. Was I surprised. An interstate overpass has been under rennovation most of the season. One reason has been the small scale of the equipment. On several days, I've seen workers using small hand operated power tools to remove old asphalt and clean the surface. Once a worker was patching the concrete with a hand trowel!. Despite this small scale, the repairs are first rate. Water proof linings protect the bridge structure (salt will dissolve concrete), and there is a double layer of new asphalt.
All this may suggest that I spend a lot of time as a sidewalk (or roadside) superintendent, but not so. The overpass work is on the main road into St. J, so we cross it several times a week. There literally are no stores in Waterford! The closest is a gas-station - convenience store about four miles "down the hill".
No longer do I make a quick trip to the hardware store or a food store. Groceries, hardware, prepared food, church, and just about everything else requires a trip either to St. Johnsbury or to Littleton NH. Although this is a nuisance, especially when you remember what you forgot on the way home, there is an upside - absolutely NO traffic, crazed drivers or un-synchronized lights to create problems or raise your blood pressure. That is worth the extra miles.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Setting the Pace
A tourist observed an old Vermont farmer holding a piglet and feeding it apples. The farmer would pick an apple, feed it to the pig, then pick another and repeat the process. The tourist asked the farmer: "wouldn't it save time to pick several apples and put them on the ground for the pig?". The farmer thought it over, and answered, "Yeah, probably, but then, what's time to a pig."
I don't have a pig (yet), but my activity is showing other evidence of the slower pace. As evidence I submit the following:
Following the advice my dad gave when he first retired, I always have one thing to accomplish each day, even it it is no more than going to the mailbox. This approach has decided benefits: It discourages sloth; it encourages long term planning and prioritization of chores; it gives me something to talk about with folks at church coffee time, and it eventually gets everything done.
For exercise, I've taken up horse shoe pitching. Since close is good enough for a point, walking between stakes is good enough for excercise.
The dogs have learned to return on command (whistle). Walking the dogs no longer requires a leash, or for that matter, much walking. I just have to remember they are outside (so far, I don't need a note to remind myself).
Finally, we had a power failure last week. It took me three days to get around to resetting my alarm clock. I guess I'm closer to the pig-time than I thought.
I don't have a pig (yet), but my activity is showing other evidence of the slower pace. As evidence I submit the following:
Following the advice my dad gave when he first retired, I always have one thing to accomplish each day, even it it is no more than going to the mailbox. This approach has decided benefits: It discourages sloth; it encourages long term planning and prioritization of chores; it gives me something to talk about with folks at church coffee time, and it eventually gets everything done.
For exercise, I've taken up horse shoe pitching. Since close is good enough for a point, walking between stakes is good enough for excercise.
The dogs have learned to return on command (whistle). Walking the dogs no longer requires a leash, or for that matter, much walking. I just have to remember they are outside (so far, I don't need a note to remind myself).
Finally, we had a power failure last week. It took me three days to get around to resetting my alarm clock. I guess I'm closer to the pig-time than I thought.
Friday, July 16, 2010
The view from here
Here are some pictures that give a better view of where we live. The first was taken in December 2009. The rock portion is LR/DR, BR upstairs and the den is behind the garage.
The second is a view of our back yard from the 'office' bedroom upstairs. The next two are the view out our living room windows. The day I took these two pictures, the sky was somewhat hazy, so the mountains in the background are somewhat obscured. Sadly, this is about the best it gets. Only after a rapidly moving 'storm' comes through does it really clear out so you can see the distant mountains.
The pictures below are from Lake Willoughby, a glacial lake we visited on a driving tour July 4.
There are two beaches at either end of this lake, and with temps near 90, both were quite crowded. This lake is some 6 miles long a mile wide. We also visited (no pics) a smaller one about 10 miles west of this one. Lakes like these dot the NE Kingdom. Many feature state parks for day use and camping.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Band Concert on the Green
Like a Norman Rockwell painting, or a 1940's movie, most towns and villages here have a town green. At least three of these have band stand's and weekly concerts during the summer. Tonight we attended in a 'military band' concert in Lyndonville. The weather was rainy all afternoon, but cleared just in time for things to be cool (about 75 degrees) and dry for the concert.
We and about 100 other people were scattered all over around the bandstand for the hour-long concert. Mature adults (anyone older than me) were most prominent, but there were people of all ages in lawn chairs, on blankets and on the regular park benches.
The band was small - about 20 instruments. They were so-so, but not bad considering it is a volunteer group and they play weekly throughout the summer. Although billed as a military band, it played a variety of music, including marches, waltzes, polkas and swing blues.
Watching the crowd was almost as much fun as listening to the band. Little kids marching to the music or just playing, lots of dogs and even a couple of knights in armor having a mock-sword battle. Everyone having a good time, and the concert too! In some ways it reminded me of the free concerts at LSU back in the 1960's...
Vermonters are big music and 'culture'. Summer events are to numerous to count, almost too many to classify. At least four towns in the Northeast Kingdom or Northern NH do volunteer-driven summer theater. There are chamber orchestra concerts all over the state, and lots of touring soloists/duets at churches, libraries, and town halls every week. However, the town fathers apparently are quite selective about who/what can play in their villes. Already twice this summer I've read of two concert venues being closed down by town officials. Stopping the one featuring the former members of the Grateful Dead caused quite a stir, but to no avail. Sadly, the show did not go on.
We and about 100 other people were scattered all over around the bandstand for the hour-long concert. Mature adults (anyone older than me) were most prominent, but there were people of all ages in lawn chairs, on blankets and on the regular park benches.
The band was small - about 20 instruments. They were so-so, but not bad considering it is a volunteer group and they play weekly throughout the summer. Although billed as a military band, it played a variety of music, including marches, waltzes, polkas and swing blues.
Watching the crowd was almost as much fun as listening to the band. Little kids marching to the music or just playing, lots of dogs and even a couple of knights in armor having a mock-sword battle. Everyone having a good time, and the concert too! In some ways it reminded me of the free concerts at LSU back in the 1960's...
Vermonters are big music and 'culture'. Summer events are to numerous to count, almost too many to classify. At least four towns in the Northeast Kingdom or Northern NH do volunteer-driven summer theater. There are chamber orchestra concerts all over the state, and lots of touring soloists/duets at churches, libraries, and town halls every week. However, the town fathers apparently are quite selective about who/what can play in their villes. Already twice this summer I've read of two concert venues being closed down by town officials. Stopping the one featuring the former members of the Grateful Dead caused quite a stir, but to no avail. Sadly, the show did not go on.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Celebrating the 4th.
It is hard to describe July 4th celebrations due to their number. There were at least five within a 45 minute drive here in Vermont, and probably at least that many within an hour in New Hampshire. Every town and village with any civic spirit put on something, even if the scale is much smaller than the Kenilworth parade.
Events stretched out over Friday night through Sunday night, and a couple of the bigger events were by admission fee only. We wanted to take the dogs with us, so we opted for the more laid-back craft show and state fiddle championships in Lyndonville, a town about 10 miles up the very twisty, hilly road from our house. Despite the surrounding mountains, downtown Lyndonville is perfectly flat. The twin events were held at the town park. This time maps were not necessary. We only had to follow the traffic and fiind a parking place.
The crafts show consisted of about 40 vendors selling everything artisan from baskets to weaving. Some of the work was quite good, but overall, it was typical of what you see everywhere. Two things noticeably missing were goose (or duck) merchandise and wood cutouts to stick in the yard, both staples of all the fairs I've seen in the South.
The most striking part of the craft fair, however, was the near absence of food vendors. There was only one food tent, with a cafeteria line featuring dishes donated by local restaurants or chefs. Most didn't look that great, and those we sampled were only average. The Vermont spice of choice for festival food apparently is sugar. Oh! for a bowl of jambalaya, shrimp on a stick or any of a dozen festival fare treats from Louisiana.
Oh well, the food wasn't the main reason we were there, anyway. The main attraction was the fiddling contest. Billed as the statewide championship, it included six divisions ranging from kids to the old masters. Each group, except the two youngest, had five or so contestants. A fiddle contest follows a fairly specific format. Three tunes, one fast, one slow, and one the player's choice. The tunes were generally short, so the entire competition took only about four hours. About 80% of it sounded the same. The only way I could pick a winner is by a lottery.
We watched (or I should say listened) to them from about 75 yards back in the cheap seats, not because they were free, but because there was shade and the volume was pleasant. We had our dogs with us, and every other person walking by stopped to acknowledge Lucy's cuteness ... She was in dog heaven! I think next time we will set up a booth and invite people pet the cute dog, for only $1.00!
Events stretched out over Friday night through Sunday night, and a couple of the bigger events were by admission fee only. We wanted to take the dogs with us, so we opted for the more laid-back craft show and state fiddle championships in Lyndonville, a town about 10 miles up the very twisty, hilly road from our house. Despite the surrounding mountains, downtown Lyndonville is perfectly flat. The twin events were held at the town park. This time maps were not necessary. We only had to follow the traffic and fiind a parking place.
The crafts show consisted of about 40 vendors selling everything artisan from baskets to weaving. Some of the work was quite good, but overall, it was typical of what you see everywhere. Two things noticeably missing were goose (or duck) merchandise and wood cutouts to stick in the yard, both staples of all the fairs I've seen in the South.
The most striking part of the craft fair, however, was the near absence of food vendors. There was only one food tent, with a cafeteria line featuring dishes donated by local restaurants or chefs. Most didn't look that great, and those we sampled were only average. The Vermont spice of choice for festival food apparently is sugar. Oh! for a bowl of jambalaya, shrimp on a stick or any of a dozen festival fare treats from Louisiana.
Oh well, the food wasn't the main reason we were there, anyway. The main attraction was the fiddling contest. Billed as the statewide championship, it included six divisions ranging from kids to the old masters. Each group, except the two youngest, had five or so contestants. A fiddle contest follows a fairly specific format. Three tunes, one fast, one slow, and one the player's choice. The tunes were generally short, so the entire competition took only about four hours. About 80% of it sounded the same. The only way I could pick a winner is by a lottery.
We watched (or I should say listened) to them from about 75 yards back in the cheap seats, not because they were free, but because there was shade and the volume was pleasant. We had our dogs with us, and every other person walking by stopped to acknowledge Lucy's cuteness ... She was in dog heaven! I think next time we will set up a booth and invite people pet the cute dog, for only $1.00!
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