(Yankee) Hoarding - Part Three - "Animals"

(Yankee) Hoarding

Part Three

"Animals"

            Suggesting and now stating that my expertise of ‘hoard’ is because I seek it, find it and... roll in it.  Like a dog doing what you don’t want it to; that kind of roll in it.  ‘Good ones’ of hoard are... how about...

            Zoomed in on

            Right away.

            No tally stick.  No moderation.  No pussy foot.  No “you should be... too”.

            No.

            Sorry.

            By the time we get to ‘good one’ of hoard... you have taken yourself off and I have made sure that you did.  I just want to be alone with it (hoard; a ‘good one’)

            “Privacy Please”.  Orange plastic cones.  Yellow plastic barrier tape.  Closed doors.  Locked truck cabs.

            Sympathy... is fain.  Why not?  That’s what they want to hear.  And want to hear

            Assurance

            Too.

            “The problem can be remedied?”  These days there is a ‘clean out’ industry whereby the ‘victim’ of hoard negligence hires (pays a substantial cash cost) to ‘have it’ “TAKEN CARE OF”.

            I don’t do that.

            There are plenty that do.  They are not that good.  At hoard.  “Paid to Clean Out” they do.  The ‘hoard’ goes with that.  No judgment is done.

            Parleyed.

            No; for the most part these are cracker barrel top cash clean-outs of

            Not

            ‘Good ones’ (a ‘good’ ‘hoard’).

            “No one even knows what a ‘good one’ (hoard) is”.

            As I stated:  Yankees are good at hoard and... if they are good at their hoards...

            You will never know.

            And... I will never say.

            This kicks back to the ‘behind scene’ whereby... “IF”... the “YOU” (I) am “INTERESTED” then there “MUST BE” ... “SOMETHING”... “IN THERE”.

            “No... just happened to be going by”

            “No... friends of my wife’s family”.

            “No... GOD in CREATION couldn’t TEMP me.”

            But their (the hoard-E) treasure trove HOARD

            HAS

            “TEMP ME”.

            So now I have to get rid of YOU.

            I do.  I have your truck towed?  Yep.

            Who calls the tow truck?

            THEY DO.

            “Who’s THEY?”

            The victims... of hoard.  The victims have the clean-out service (and their large ‘charge’ [cost]) towed off for

            I do not request to be paid... to ‘clean out’

            A ‘good one’.

            A ‘good one’

            “Is a WHAT?” you, a compulsive trash bag, ask.

            I already told you (Part Two):

            “Yes.  That is a ‘very key’ (skeleton key) to Yankee hoard.

            The Yankee hoards his God

            In his soul”. (Part Two)

            As soon as I sense that a hoard has a soul; that the hoard is ‘of humanity’... with the ‘more generations bailed in there the better’... too... I am

            I am.

            You are towed.  You don’t know that it was I who ‘did that’.  Nor do you

            “See Soul”.

            It is very rare that a five-letter-using... ‘clean’...sees soul.  Or its hoard.

            The ideal combination is... a soul touched Yankee hoard of many generations all ‘in place’ in an old New England home undisturbed outside ‘of family’ with the last of that (family) guarding the “MESS” from peek-a-boo.  They (‘of family’) fear peek-a-boo ‘of family’ more than “clean out” but, too, fear the “cost” of that clean out too so... peek-a-boo... I come along with the “we will pay you (stated definite amount of money) for all of this and will have it (the family homestead)

            Cleaned out

            By next Tuesday

            Afternoon

            At four o’clock”.

            What’s this actually about?  Layers.  If it is ‘that old’ ‘in there’ for ‘that long’... it is in

            Layers.

            I look for (multi-generational) layers

            Of Yankee hoard.

            I know what I am looking for.  I know what it looks like.  A casual “walk through” is ‘suffice’.  Remember; the political button was denoted in the dresser top dish hoard and ...that was all... (Part One).  Nothing but lightest ‘walk though’.  Once that deal is done... though...

            EVERYTHING IS CLEAN OUT.  All hoard of ...all hoard... is

            Taken.

   

            Think of hoarders being hoarders for generation after generation with each a special person hoarder with special hoarding visions that are hoarded on top of older family hoarder’s hoards of hoarding... deep... dark... “core sample” hoard.  SO DEEP it is found to include layers dating “Colonial (New England)” “in there.

            “THEY ONLY LIVED IN THE FRONT ROOMS”.

            “AFTER THE CIVIL WAR”

            “CAME BACK”

            “Married TWICE”.

            “THEN SHE DIED”

            “BURIED HER CATS BEHIND THE BARN.  In the FERNS over there

            THEY SAY”.

            “Seventeen cats”.

            “IN THERE... DID YOU FIND THE OLD CAPTAIN’S LEG?”

            “WOODEN LEG.”

            “They KEPT THAT you know.  OUT by the FIRE.  SHOWED IT TO

            MY MOTHER

            When she was a LITTLE GIRL  She said.

            Always said

            She told me

            DID YOU FIND THAT

            IN THERE?”

            I did.

            Is that hoard?

            No... just a part of hoard.  One piece

            To a puzzle?

            No.  To a

            Soul.

            What do you want me to do?  Be breezy and trite?  Just because you don’t notice hoard and don’t notice family hoard and don’t know what a ‘layer’ is in an ...old Yankee New England house hoard... am I suppose to accommodate you and your crass subjection often verbalized as “selling my mother’s house”.  No... you just don’t want to have to paint the trim molding on the backside of the house (“can’t see it from the street”) so whatever I clean out of the

            Attics

            (plural)

            You ‘already went through anyway “I didn’t find anything I wanted”.  I know you’d like to hire an interior designer to help with the latter (‘didn’t finding anything’) but, well... that’s not gonna happen.  It would just be a bigger insult to the past seven generation of your family.  They (the seven generations of [hoard] family) would rather I “did it” and not let you and your ceiling paint card ‘loose in there’.  Did I just say that those hoard souls would rather have it all burn to the ground than have you get it?

            Yep.  So I had your truck towed BACK to where you ‘moved to’.  It is okay; we are all getting a better idea of hoard, hoard management and hoard soul... thanks to you.  That’s really where we are right now; stuff, stuff management and the boarder lands of hoard.  “Clutter”.  “I hate it”.  Look:  You can’t even clutter because your stuff is so crummy.  The old Yankees... nod from their graves.  Even the seventeen buried cats nod from THEIR graves.  “Tortie – Killed By Arrow” one’s stone reads.  Again:  Seventeen cat graves... that is one person’s HOARD of cat graves.  A hoard of cat graves is very rare.

            Stoic

            Stunning

            Full of soul (cat and human)

            And, today...

            “Lost on most people”

            Even when shown and

            Standing amongst them.

            What is it going to take to get you to understand that calling “Hoarder” (“witch”) is a declaration of how EMPTY you are?  That includes one legged sea captain’s ghosts...

            Clomping down the backstairs with his candle.  I know:  You “don’t stay in those kind of houses”.

            You have no “privilege of hoard”.

Old New England Glassware in the Home - Part Twenty-Nine - "Grave Digger"

Old New England Glassware in the Home

Part Twenty-Nine

"Grave Digger"

            Annie Pester (“Elizabeth Ann”) (“Mrs. Anabranch Pester”) lived with her husband at the Pester Farm when I first visited her there in the late nineteen sixties.  I was in high school.  I had repeatedly encountered Annie at local ‘yard’ and ‘tag’ sales.  From these encounters we had first ‘spoken’ and then ‘talked’ and then

            One Saturday morning as we were both leaving an unresponsive ‘SALE’ she invited me to come to the Pester farm to ‘see it’; the ‘broken’ ‘barn cupboard’ she’d “FOUND”.  The farm was less than a mile away... ‘at the top of the hill’

            From the top of this hill, in Sweden, Maine, one looked “back” toward ‘the (White) Mountains’.  That morning I paid no attention to this for I was ‘very used to’ a ‘that view’ from the ‘Lakes Region’ of southwestern Maine (southern Oxford County).  I did pay close attention to the Pester farm.  This was not the first time I had done that:

            Paid attention

            To the “Anabranch Pester Farm”.

            “Was Branch (Anabranch) there?” was my primary question.  “Branch Pester” was a local ‘reason with’ (avoid) for ...local teenage boys.  Anabranch and Annie had two ‘teenage’ daughters.

            “YOUR THAT YOUNG ANTIQUES MAN SHE TALKS ABOUT” he said to me... in the Pester farm’s yard while I stood next to my... mother’s... car.  Then he left us (Annie and I).  He walked over to his truck and then across the yard to the barn.  Then back to the truck.  He got in that and drove away.  That was all in about two minutes.

            We (Annie and I) then walked to the barn, went in the open-door front, turned to the left; the ‘far side’ of the barn and... came upon... there... the ‘broken barn cupboard' she’d 'found’.  I...

            Knew that what I “SEE” was not a “THAT”.  It was a ‘once’ ‘built in’ corner cupboard that had the bottom door ‘there’ but ‘off’.  The top of the cupboard was ‘always open’; it never ‘had a door’.  It had been ‘built in’ ...somewhere... once.  I was quick to configure that... and that

            “FOUND” means Annie FOUND this cupboard... pretty close to where it “IS NOW” at the far left ‘front’ of the ‘barn’.  She ‘drove around’ in a ‘car’ like my mother’s so... “she didn’t load this somewhere”.  I could figure.  Also... the cupboard was ‘too good’ to have been “FOUND” any other way... or place... than “IN” the “FAR BACK” of the

            Anabranch Pester Farm’s... “OLD”... barn

            Where, for some historic reason... IT

            “HAD BEEN PUT BACK THERE”

            After ‘being taken’ “OUT” of ...perfectly obvious to my sweet seventeen self... the “OLD HOUSE” that was the center of the Anabranch Pester

            Farm

            On the hillside top... looking west... at the White Mountains... near Sweden, Maine.

            I offered, as the minutes ticked by, ‘twenty-five dollars’.

            “IT’S BROKEN YOU SEE?” Annie said.

            “Yes.” I said

I sold the cupboard; the eighteenth century built-in corner cupboard from the original homestead house of the (Anabranch) Pester Farm... inclusive of I promoting that sale by lying the cupboard down in my family’s barn yard to “SHOW” the “FROM THE COAST” “antiques dealers” the... BURN MARKS
Underneath the shelves
In the top section of the cupboard
Where the candles... when set in the cupboard... “BURNED” the ‘underside’ of the shelf above it; ‘little burnt spots’ (“you can’t miss them:  They MUST be there” and ‘always are’).
“Oh aren’t those wonderful!” and... he and his wife ‘bought it’.
Do I look back on all of this right now and ‘wish’ that ‘no way’ did I sell that?
Of course.
But that “THAT” is ‘part of this’ TOO.
I sold ‘it’ for one hundred and twenty-five dollars.
I ‘made’, I figured, ‘one hundred dollars less twenty for hauling it around’.
I made ‘eighty bucks’ the first time I visited the Anabranch Pester farm
In the late nineteen sixties.

            Ralph Waldo Emerson was never heard quoted at the Anabranch Pester Farm although ‘Branch’ verbally fumed ‘self reliance’.  ‘Branch’ never quoted Whitman either.  That I know of.  Nor Hawthorne.  Annie had a red letter “A” on a blanket... she kept neatly folded on the porch swing on the front porch of the front addition, circa 1830, of the farm.  I am confident that I am the only person who ever connected that “A” with Hawthorne and that connection was for no other reason than it being a big red “A” before my eyes and that following on an eight grade English class forced reading of ‘that book’.

            At this point-in-time... of the blanket on the porch swing, I did not notice then (age seventeen) but did shortly discern (by age twenty-two?) that a ‘center’ Greek Revival ‘pillar’ of this porch attached to the front of the ‘front addition’ ‘circa 1830’ of the Anabranch Pester Farm was ‘gone’.  Not therefore ‘missing’.  I discerned.  IT was TOO ‘in the barn’; down the far left side to the rear ‘leaning up’.  That’s the way it always was for every one of my visits to the

            Anabranch Pester Farm

            Until

            Branch and Annie’s granddaughter ‘sold it’; the ‘missing’ pillar.

One of Branch and Annie’s daughters... eventually... ‘took over’ “the farm”.  SHE had two daughters ‘there’ ‘too’.  One of those daughters... eventually... ‘took over’ “the farm... TOO.  She has two sons.  And lives there (the Anabranch Pester Farm) NOW.  When her mother sold the pillar ‘missing’ from the front porch, she and her mother had no connection that this ‘thing’ ‘went to the farm’.  By the time anyone else who ‘would know that’ discovered this had happened, it was ‘too late’.  The pillar was sold, and resold, first in Maine.  Then in Connecticut.  Then on 26^th Street in New York City where it was ‘carried off’ to be ‘displayed’ by ‘collectors’ in their ‘loft’.  It is still known to ‘have come from a farm in Maine’.  I have been told.  By the picker who ‘picked it’.  And sold it.

            Annie was “one hundred an one” it is said when she died in 1986.  She ‘got the antiques bug’ as early as 1955 she claimed.  To me.  She had two kinds of antiques... at her home... of the Anabranch Pester Farm.  Kind one was the “THINGS” she “FOUND” in her travels locally to “EVERY SALE”.  Kind two was the “THINGS” she “FOUND” in the Anabranch Pester Farm.  This second group was divided by things “I LIKE” and things “I DON’T LIKE”.  That was the ‘schooling’ that went into her ‘antiques business’.  The ‘kind one’ ‘things’ were always... and only... “things I like”.

            She was ‘inclined’ to ‘keep’ most all of the ‘things I like’.  And she would sell ‘most all’ of the things she ‘I don’t like’.  Therefore... and to my careful notice, ‘things’ Annie ‘found’ in the farm that she ‘does not like’ were the best antiques ‘she got’ ‘ever’ and ‘does not know’...this.  I was not the only one who ‘knew this’.

            Although other... at first usually older... men... who were ‘of antiques’; ‘antiquarians’ (pickers)... ‘went there’ (“picked”) (the Anabranch Pester Farm) AND even ‘knew Branch’ well enough to... stand by his pig pen with him and, too, ‘scratch the hog’s back’ with ‘a stick’... TOO... I... became a regular ‘stop by’... TOO.  Branch avoided me and... I avoided his daughters.  Annie... in her antique bug... gathered.  And gathered.  This gather... for the most part... did NOT appeal to ‘other’.  I... on the other hand... and persistently “doing” the coastal flea market(s) “NOW”... ‘could use’ ‘stuff like that’ soooo... “You two get along fine in your trades don’t you”.  Said Branch.  To me.  That was good for twenty years.  By that time Branch had died and... Annie was ‘moved out of the farm’ and died.  Too.

            The ‘one of her daughters’ ‘moved in.  And ‘cleaned up’ and ‘cleaned out’ and ‘throw out’.  This last was ‘sort of’:  She... for the most part... ‘put it (this throw out) in the barn’.  The ‘farm’ no longer ‘farmed’.  The barn no longer ‘barned’?  WELL... its DOOR became the ‘where you park your truck’ if you ‘are a picker’ “JUST GOING BY”.  The ‘piles’ in the barn were an unstated ‘permanent yard sale’... at the

            Anabranch Pester Farm.

            This daughter spawned two daughters.  They became ‘teenage’ while I ‘JUST GOING BY’ the “BARN”.  Then they, too, ‘grew up’ and... their mother, too, “getting old”.  Too.  Soon one of these daughters ‘moved in too’ ‘with her husband (“HE’S A NICE GUY YOU KNOW”):

            Farm truck

            Ball cap

            Camo pants

            “Bow hunting”

            “Black powder deer”

            Church:

            “ONE OF THOSE CHURCHES”.

            School?

            “HOME SCHOOL”

            Boat

            Summer

            Camp

            “UP TO”.

            He... always watched me.. in my dealings... of my backed up truck... with ‘her mother’... ‘at the barn’... until she died.  Can’t say that I’ve been back since then.

            I bought the EAPG from the ‘house cupboards’ starting with Annie who I doubt ever drank from an EAPG goblet in her life.  The ‘glassware’ ‘come out’ of ‘the house’ “pretty right along” as Annie ‘cleaned out’ the “I don’t” from the “I do” (“like”):  The old New England glassware... in the home.  She didn’t get ‘all of it’ out ...in her lifetime.  IT TOOK A TASTE for ‘plastic’ and (“CONWAY” [NH]) box store design innovation too:  Yeah... we all remember when ‘North Conway’ was NOT and ‘outlet’ destination... do we not?  WELL ANYWAY, they’d go over there and ‘get’

            “FOR THE HOUSE”.

            That “HOUSE?” (Part Twenty-Five) was now... becoming “ONCE WAS” the ‘Anabranch Pester Farm’.  “THE BOYS ARE GROWING UP AREN’T THEY.  GONNA GO OVER TO Meredith (NH) TO SEE THE GRAVE DIGGER”.

            Then they showed me “THE PICTURE” (photograph) of ‘the boys’ and the ‘Grave Digger’.

            They’re ‘keeping that’.

            It’s ‘not for sale’.

            And...

In the Anabranch Pester Farm

There ain’t much else left ‘you’d call antique’ ‘in there’ ‘anyway’.

            I do

            Still have some of

            The old New England glassware (EAPG)

            I purchased

            In the (that) home

            It’s “out in the barn somewhere... I’m pretty sure”.

Trimming Grass and Weeds Around Old New England Property (Antique) Granite Landscape Fixtures - Part Sixteen- "The History of the History"

Trimming Grass and Weeds Around

Old New England Property

(Antique) Granite Landscape Fixtures

Part Sixteen

"The History of the History"

"Ahhh...."

What happened next is that... for the majority-most of ‘old stone wall’, once ‘piled’ “THERE”... no one... at all... ever... ‘did’ anything else “THERE” or even “WENT THERE”.  And I mean ‘exactly there’.  SURE THERE COULD be a chance ...he and her... courting... of a mesmerized moment of love blossom ‘sit there’ or a climbed-over-there-while “GOING” “HUNTING... etc.  Otherwise the piled field stone ‘just sits there’.  Of course I know a few 20^th century men who related how they ‘punched a hole in that wall’ to ‘get in’ with their (logging) ‘equipment’ to “CUT” the ...still virgin (?) forest PAST the “EDGE” of the old ‘cleared field’.   And other bulldozer stories of ...stone wall destruction.

One of the...

            Number topper ‘killers’ of stone wall is the word

            “FILL”

            Meaning a ‘ready supply’ of “ROCK” that may be gathered to

            “FILL”.

            What ever one wants to PAY MONEY to have

            FILLED.

            “Access that” (roadside section of ‘old’ ‘stone’ ‘wall’) became, from 1890... to this day... a ‘for fill’.  “Road” “building” as a ‘serious consideration’ for ‘using’ (‘driving’) the automobile (including “truck”)... very quickly ‘needed fill’ and found that fill ‘cheap’ right there beside the “ROAD BUILDING”.

            Once... though.. the removal of the ‘stone’ ‘wall’ (piled field stone) that was... “EASY” to ‘access that’ ‘cheap’ ‘beside the road’... they (the road builders) “let off” from “taking” “the wall”.  That was not before ALL and “any” ‘old wall’ that could be cost effectively accessed was ‘taken’.  “Roadside” stone walls today... ‘show this happened’ to THEM THERE but

            IF

            One travels a few (twenty-five to fifty feet) PAST any point of ‘easy’ ‘access that’ “FROM THE ROAD” one... usually ‘breaks free’ back into ‘undisturbed’ old pilings of field stone.  Pervasive DOES denote how much road side access “OLD WALL” became “FILL”.

            It (‘if one travels’) is also the source of the epic “stone wall” narrative titled “IF YOU GO INTO THE WOODS JUST A LITTLE BIT THE WALLS THERE ARE BEAUTIFUL”.  The ...pervasive problem with that being that one... has to ‘go into the woods’; “off pavement”.  The bugs.  “Getting lost”.  Twisting those puffy pink ankles because one ‘has’ ‘flip-flops’ “ON”...  That’s fine; just leave the old stone wall alone... it doesn’t care that one’s ‘off pavement’ status is... ‘down’

            Also the old piled field stone does not care ...or resist... the idealities vision of a ‘bucket’ (a large yellow painted machine used in road construction; a ‘front end loader’, that goes... “beep, beep, beep, beep” when ‘it’ ‘backs up’) being able to ‘scoop up’ “THE WALL” accessible from the road.  THIS vision is stymied by the ...simple engineering conundrum of ... old stone wall... refusing to scoop up well.  Old field stone is... as it was when first encountered by the lone man in the field a quarter millennium ago... ‘difficult to move’.

            That’s fine for that means that very quickly ‘in the woods’ away from ‘easy cost effective access... ‘old’ ‘stone’ ‘wall’ is ‘no’ ‘one’ ‘there’.

            I

            Am tired of having to ...crust over... like a pie... the... popular... vision... of ‘old New England property (antique) granite landscape fixtures’ within this vignette of chapters (blog posts) pontificating upon ‘old New England’... ‘granite’.

            I am tired of having to do that.

            OVER and over the solution to preservation of old New England granite has been strongly suggested by I to be “leave it alone,  keep a fixture “hidden away” and “do not mention” it at all.  These personal and professional actions to take are, again, the solution for ‘old’ ‘stone’ ‘wall’.  Too.  If one has old stone wall on old New England property...

            Shut up.

            If one ‘visits’; a ‘goes there’... go alone.

            Quietly enjoy the forest landscape AND it’s ‘old New England property (antique) granite landscape fixtures... ALONE.

            “Study you say?”

            “Yes”

            IF one wanders on property with hidden ‘old New England’ granite upon it.

            I am not the voice of this.  I also, am not the misbehaving miscreant with flip-flops, pink ankles, weed killer, weed whacker... cut granite driveway lamp posts and

            HORRIBLE open mouth utterances that drop dreadful crumb trails leading always to the SAME ...their... ‘pot of gold’ of THEY

            KNOW

            NOTHING.

            Harvard, 2000**********:  “Increasingly, people live in or near (New England) forest and often own small areas of woodlands, yet their connection to and understanding of the land, its forest and its wildlife is at an (sic) historical low”

            In new and old New England.

            Old New England property (antique) granite landscape fixtures... from ‘stone’ ‘wall’ to... half buried propped up on edge well cap stones to... sit-on rocks to...

            “Those God damn TOMB STONES they make and sell FOR STEPS”

            Is not directly treated by Harvard herein but is ..indirectly treated... for, as we very well understand... there ARE (antique) granite landscape fixtures... ON... old New England property and THAT IS WHAT this

            Book

            “FROM HARVARD”

            Is about; the history of the

            History

            Of the

            Old New England property...

            Landscape fixtures

            From pre- (English) settlement to... puffy pink ankle flip-flop... ‘visits’.

            TODAY.

            I am slowly introducing this book.  It is ‘too good’ for the reader just now.  I will come back to and build with the book.  Right now... WE are still fussing with ‘stone’ ‘walls’.  I just want the reader to know that ...there is... an ‘are of’ ‘people’ who ARE

            AWARE

            Of old New England property

            Landscape fixtures;

            Their history and the

            History

            OF their history.

            And that these people CARE.

            If YOU bulldoze an old stone wall... someone does care.  We cannot stop you but we do care.

            Who’s the first person who cared and studied ‘old New England property... landscape fixtures?

            Harvard, herein... defaults back to Thoreau.

            Did he... old stone wall?

            Did he ‘see’ ‘that’ (old New England property [antique] granite landscape fixtures)?

            Did he see them as “antique” “then” (1850’s).  Did he die understanding old New England property?

            Harvard seems to feel... Thoreau...

            Had the feel

            Of the feel

            That is now the history

            Of the history

            Of old New England property

            Landscape fixtures.

            But did Thoreau have... good taste?

            And does Harvard have good taste?

            Too? 

            When one is before a ‘beautiful’ (section of) “Old” “Stone” “Wall”... often... ten feet down the wall and... or... ten feet UP the wall ...that wall... isn’t that “BEAUTIFUL”.  I explained that as ‘things’ ‘happen’ (Part Fifteen).  That; the ‘BEAUTIFUL’, is what happened  ‘there’ ‘then’.  A little further was, “LIKE”, an off day... in mid-May

            Of a 1740’s

            Colonial day.

            Enjoy the “WALL” of piled field stone “THERE”.  Mark one’s little black book of ‘good ones’ ‘old granite sites’.  Leave quietly.  Say nothing.  Go back when you ‘feel like it’ to ‘visit’.  It’s ok to take a few photograph... especially as they remind you later that

            “It’s really not the same”

            As being there.

            A sit-on rock IS interesting to look at but

            ....Butt... makes more sense when... ‘sit-on’.

---

********** : Foster, David R. and O’Keefe, John F.:  NEW ENGLAND FOREST THROUGH TIME.  INSIGHTS FROM THE HARVARD FOREST DIORAMAS. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA, 2000., pg. 19.