The American Automotive Association pumped out Holiday Magazine to encourage Americans to set out on the country's new interstates in their fancy new cars. After the war, Curtis Publishing took over and continued to do the same. It's kind of like a Michelin Guide for the US of A without restaurant rankings and with more articles by Ernest Hemingway. (We picked up the Wisconsin issue, above, in Maine, as well as North Carolina, below. Both are amazing).
There amongst all the books and old prints at Goose River Exchange hung this wonderful little guy. We made an offer - and now he's ours! We'll call him Camden. A very nice name for a bear. We're still tryting to find the perfect home for him and this amazing section of old post office boxes (they're about 4.5 feet tall) that we picked up from the Rockport Antiques Mall. Installation photos pending!
And...we're back - completely blessed to have missed the inferno that was last week. We wore sweaters in the mornings, swam in the warm lake in the afternoons, ate at least five lobsters each (mostly rolls, but one, as you can see below, in full semi-soft shelled/full bodied glory) and even went sailing on a big wooden scooner. (Above is the Welcome to Camden/Rockport Arch that also welcomed everyone to Peyton Place).
Camden Harbor at dusk
Porter, making a great leap, seemingly without arms. I, unfortunately, did something similar -- but with my glasses on my face. I only realized that mistake 15 minutes later after emerging form the water and blindly crawling all over the dock in pointless search. Then I cried. Then my uncle borrowed a snorkeling mask from the neighbors and miraculously plucked them from the bottom of Megunticook Lake on his first attempt.
Commodore Al Osgood, father to my uncle Al Osgood!
Porter runs the ridge along the blueberry fields.
Vintage books in the back room of the wonderful Goose River Exchange in Camden. We made a very, very special purchase here! (It will be unveiled in the next post).
We stocked up on bacon so deeply smoked that it doesn't require refridgeration...and lots of rhubarb strawberry jam at Beth's Farm Market.
Porter chases cousin Hudson on the dock. He flees.
On the unbearably sweaty walk home last night, I came across a guy selling a bunch of old DVDs -- and this incredible old picnic/beach wicker folding chair on East 14th Street. Praying for any number under $50, I asked how much he wanted for it. $5! I almost fell over. It's missing one of its straps, but otherwise is perfect!
I actively fantasize over chicken wire tile. When I eventually own property (est. around 2035 at this rate), the kitchen and all bathroom floors will be covered in it (while the walls will be covered in subway tiles)...much like they are at the adorable Wall Street Burger Shoppe.
(The subway tiles are actually vintage - slightly yellowed with cracks).
I spent the past few days at a meeting up in Saratoga Springs. We didn't get much time for exploration and/or splashing in mineral water in vintage tubs - but we did have dinner next to the great Adirondack murals at the Gideon Putnam resort. Painted in 1939 by Irish artist James Reynolds, they're a complete precursor to Ludwig Bemelmans' 1953 book, Parsley (a book I never read, but an astute facebook friend pointed out).