Pretty Things + Maggot Flies

Good morning! Now that we are past my brief mechanical meltdown, let's get back to the trip, shall we?

By the time we got to Vermont, I had already dragged Andrew treasure hunting through three countries, four cities, and dozens of cabins and sheds and barns that looked like they just might collapse on our heads if our cell phones even vibrated which is probably why they don't get service anywhere that we went, which made for some wonderfully entertaining squirming on Andy's part.

So basically I loved it.

Since we'd flown back into the country through New York we had to drive to the ski resort in Vermont (tremendous THANK YOU to Hertz who upgraded us from a Focus to an Escalade and didn't charge us a dime for the entire trip) which gave us plenty of opportunities to stop along the way at antique shops in Connecticut. Heaven.

I'm not going to share all of the things I brought back with us, but I will give you a preview of what's new in the shop.
















There was one hiccup on our hunts, outside of Burlington in the middle of nowhere, and it was so bizarre that I have to get your take.

We came upon a white two story building, quaint and charming enough, with an aging green sign that said ANTIQUES hung out front. Perfect. Andrew slammed on the brakes and we pulled over and went inside where we found a creepy friendly extremely clean cut middle age man and his dog who looked like he might swallow me for lunch. We walked around and discovered an impressive collection of handmade wood bowls and hundred year old silver and suh-weet mid century dishes that I dream about at night.

Yes, I dream about dishes.

Anyway, if any of you know what could possibly have caused what we saw next (including a hundred dead bodies LIKE I TOLD YOU ANDREW), please share in the comments. Or email me. Or call the police.

At each and every window there were piles and piles of grayish black dead flies. Above them were hundreds of live ones. Swarming. IN THE DEAD OF WINTER. It was disgusting and disturbing and totally fascinating all at the same time. I have never seen anything comparable, I have never heard anything comparable, because the sound was a buzz so loud I'd put money on it causing permanent hearing loss. Fuh-reek-ee.

I panicked and insisted (by vehement whisper) that we hightail it out of there RIGHT NOW, which we did, with the little-too-friendly straight edge man trailing right behind us.

It was horror music worthy.



Okay.

So.

Did I save us from ending up chopped up in his attic, or what?



p.s. I thought you might like to know that we're parting with many of our things since we're moving, including THE stools. Tear.