“The best real estate investment i ever made.”

Yup, that’s what he told me during the cross examination.

He’s a gardener. His specialty is transplant. He is particularly fond of transplanting trees.

The L.L.Bean-green pickup was exiting the driveway when I noticed a swaying movement about 15 feet above the bed of the truck.

It was no surprise for me to see a swaying tree in the bed of the pickup. But when the truck turned left at the end of the driveway — well, that was a potential problem.

He drove that truck right down to Kimball’s Pasture cemetery, then down the rustic pathway to his double plot. Biggest plot there is (in the new section of Kimball’s Pasture), and he bought it for 50 cents on the dollar. “Was worth twice that amount!” (So he says.)

Except for the newly-arrived gravestones, the new section of the cemetery is nude. The old section is filled with groomed shrubs, knarled trees, granite markers, obelisks, rugged crosses, terraced plots — it has the look of aristocracy. The old Kimball’s has patina and shade. The new Kimball’s is more weed than grass.

Last year he designed the granite cornerstones for his plot and had them professionally made and installed. The day lilies were planted next. His lilies were to be the beginning of a planned re-vegetation. One lily was planted at each cornerstone. Those lilies lasted only as long as the first lawn mowing. Clearly, the lilies were compromised.

He was absent about an hour. On his return, I started with the questions. Where did you take that tree I saw bumping around in the back of the truck? Is that so? Is that allowed?

Later, the small dog and I walked the short distance to Kimball’s. There was the tree, planted right in the center of the plot. The only tree in the new section of Kimball’s Pasture.

Later and again, I asked, “Is that allowed?” He answered “It doesn’t say anywhere that it isn’t.”

So there you have it. Another exciting true moment from Maine.

shmata defined

SHMATA: I used to own a man-finder dress (these images are not of that dress). It did not matter when or where I wore that dress — the dress was always a magnet for men. The heartbreakers, the soon-to-be heartbroken, the machismo, the shy, the married, and the artistic men — they all flocked to that dress. The dress was “approachable.” Ballet slippers and work boots were the perfect accessory. Yup, I really believed in the power of that dress. So when “J” asked me, "what was I going to wear that night.... the answer was, of course, the dress. J. quickly replied “CRAP, not that OLD shmata!”

So there there you have it. My man-finder was just another old shmata! A rag. Past its prime. Too many washings.

The dress remained in my closet for another year. Then, in a moment of despondency, I impulsively discarded that old shmata. Big mistake. I still yearn for that old magical dress.

So, I collect Shmatas. I know a shmata when I see one. This is a recent addition to the collection. Probably from the 1960's or early 1970's, a full circle skirt, giant butterflies and made from polyester. Slightly past its prime, but it still has the magic.

Selling shmatas at incognitoinmaine.etsy.com

Apprentice. Read it and weep Donald.

My apprentice. She has been shopping, sorting and collecting with me for 10 years. She knows all the thrift shops, the volunteers, the buzz words, the fabrics, the styles and the sub-culture of the antiques and collectible business. With a gypsy spirit she darts into a garage sale, flea market or thrift store looking for the catch of the day.

Last weekend as we were leaving for the hunt, I gave her my wish list. Three stops into the morning, I heard her clear voice as she scanned the offerings at a church thrift; “i have goth here!”

Recently she stated: “You know, don't you? I’m not like other kids.”

I watch her with her glasses on the tip of her nose, waiting in the checkout line with her cache of goth and I feel sorry for the “donald.” He never had an apprentice like mine.

night out in the country

The “Vagina Monologues” played in a theater near us this week. He & I had tickets for the second show which included a free dessert bar.

We are either enlightened or OTL, but it never occurred to us that there would be more women in attendance than men. We entered a lobby filled with beautiful women and two other men.

He once told me that growing up with four sisters almost made him eligible for a menstrual cycle — but not quite :) Still, a theater full of women paying rapt attention to a monolog about vaginas and women’s sexulaity was more than he had planned for.

We enjoyed ourselves and left with two whole-wheat chocolate chip cookies tucked inside his jacket pocket.

that nasty skunk keeps giving payback

The snow has melted. The ice is "out." The loons are back. The mosquitoes and black flies have not arrived. Sun and warm temperatures for the weekend. You would think this was perfection....and it is

But, last fall, a skunk sprayed (and died) near the entry way to our home. With the snow cover gone, the smell is back!!! We (of course, "we" means "he" even in Maine) are going to dig up an area of dirt near the doorway, load it into a wheelbarrow and cart it into the woods. This is a desperate attempt to move the smell to another location. It's the smell or me.

dog id tag, skunk, hardware store, lovell, maine

Good thing I had that id tag engraved for the small dog. With all the snow we have on the ground, he found a way out of his fenced run by jumping and climbing over snow piles. My husband received the inevitable phone call, and retrieved the small dog (safe & smelling of skunk) at the local hardware store. Holding the now-reclaimed small, smiling nuisance in his arms, he explained to the staff at the store that his wife loved that small dog more than she loved him.

Here is my plan: I’m going to visit the hardware store today and thank the staff for rescuing the small dog, and then confide to them that my husband loves that small dog more than he loves me. Subtle, right? In a small town this could be a good story.

inventory, stash and hoard

Today I am wondering about the difference between inventory, stash and hoard. If one brings their new-found "treasures" back to their bricks and mortar store — those "treasures" might be defined as inventory. If one doesn't have a bricks and mortar store, they probably bring their "treasures" to their home.

Every nook and cranny in a store is filled with the store's inventory. But, when every nook and cranny in a home is filled with "treasure", it might be defined as a "hoard." And stash? Well, in my opinion, Stash likes to sit on the park bench next to Hoard. This has been worrying me lately :)

small dog and nimble scavenger

The small dog and I took our 30-second power walk this morning. Daily, during the winter, we dash to the end of the driveway and then back to the house. He can't stand to have snow on his paws, and I don't want a stray drive-by to get a glimpse of my morning self. We agree that morning walks should be just for business. BUT, today.....as we marched out onto the unplowed, white driveway we knew something was different. Unfamiliar tracks on the snow. The small dog sniffed and I scanned. The tracks climbed the snow banks, walked around the house, circled the compost. This was a new visitor to our yard. A nimble scavenger. Caution was in the air. The dog doors will be closed tonight.

Hey what did ya buy today?

Not much, but i'm happy with those cigar-shaped dishes. The colors in the vintage child's wool ski sweater by Carroll Reed make it look like a work of tapestry The heart-shaped Dansk candlesticks were a must-buy because of Valentines Day. (But, imagine trying to get a taper to stand up straight in these candle holders.) The little piece of pottery is probably junk, but it feels nice to the touch. There was more (isn't there always?) but these were my stand-out buys.

when i return from Denmark, Maine

I promise to catch up on my blog, my etsy shop, my facebook comments, my taxes, chores around the house, email, shipping for ebay......you name it, i have to do it! :) k

My warmest & favorite snow boots for winter in Maine

After years of searching...finally! Success! The perfect boot for winter in Maine. Slip ons — so no tieing everytime you put them on. Light enough to clomp around the house (because the floors are cold). Black — a neutral stylish color. Good traction on the ice. Warm feet today, even at 20 below zero. Heck, warm feet without wearing socks. Should last for years. Thank you Sorrel Snow Boots. I told my husband: "If I go before you....bury me in my boots!" (it was a joke)

ice fishing on bear pond in waterford, maine

Looks like a village on Bear Pond. Trucks drive down the 'pond' road and park next to their ice fishing shacks aka shanties aka huts aka shelters. And, it was below zero today! My mother and I speculate on what drives these people to sit out on the ice, in the freezing cold, to fish. It has to be a subculture. A subculture of good friends.

Do we find treasure or does treasure find us?

I seem to be on an asian art cycle these days. First a book, then a bowl and now this possible Japanese print on silk in original frame with an old Boston Art Gallery Stamp — Doll & Richards Incorporated, 138 Newbury Street, Boston. Two sides of the brown paper backing are still attached. The landscape measures apx 9.5 by 10.5 not including the mat or frame. First, I have to gather my courage to pull some nails and see if the painting is actually on silk. (Its probably a paper place man.) Then I should see if I can discover the name of the artist (impossible). I’ll keep you posted on my research. Later the same day: Research continues to point to a print on silk.

This week’s finds included a small velvet 1888 (over 100 years old!) portfolio with antique photographs inside. There are no notations on the photographs, but in a “lightbulb moment” I recognized Hebron Academy. I'm still trying to identify the photograph of a man that was included in this grouping.

Who are these women from New Bedford, Massachusetts?

14 antique CDVs or carte de visites of women from Massachusetts. Eight of these cards were photographed in New Bedford, Massachusetts. Three are marked Charlestown by Venner. One is Taunton, Mass. These women might all be from the same family. Imagine, 100 years after these photographs were taken, we are viewing them on the internet. Looking at their faces, checking out their dresses. I'm listing these at incognitoinmaine.etsy.com

essential clothing for walking my shihdoodle-like dog companion down the road in Maine

What’s a girl to wear when walking her dog down the road in rural Maine? My designer dog (a shihdoodle) deserves my best waltz-down-the-road, Maine, designer clothing. The feature piece of this ensemble is the most user-friendly coat I have owned — purchased for full price from Lands End. The best accessory I have owned is my circa mid-century Leave-it-to-Beaver bathrobe. Then comes the one-for-every-day-of-the-week, thrift store-find, flannel nightgown accessorized with fur Tecnika boots bought at thrift for $5. Please note the designer crampons and the Mad Bomber hat that makes me appear headless when we have blizzard conditions outside. In the summertime I leave the hat, boots and coat behind and spray on an outer layer of deet. It's all true. I wear this on the road. This is Maine!

more images for the whatsit

more images in order, I hope! I thought this might be an art instruction book.

a whatsit? to love

I like this item. But, its a whatsit to me. String binding. Paper covers. Could it be Japanese? Could it be old? A how-to? How did it find its way to Maine?

I'm not a writer, but I'm having fun posting the spoils of my treasure hunting on my blog. Here are two of several items that I found this week. First; a small wooden box with an oriental-style paper label filled with plastic-like domino-size pieces of a game? A puzzle? My guess is puzzle, but take a look and let me know what you think. The designs appealed to me, but I don't think these pieces are old.

And then, there is the old Dandelion Brand bottle with a paper label, from Vermont, originally priced for 25 cents. The label on the bottle indicates that it once held some kind of fluid, probably a color to add to cream. It is filled with seeds now. Those seeds will have to be tossed before I put the bottle in my Etsy store.

come with me to yoga in the yurt in the woods of Maine

I’m taking you with me, to where I began my yoga journey with Martha D who owns and operates Mountain Yurt Yoga. We are going to Denmark, Maine. Up Allen Mountain, up the woodsy walkway, into the clearing, and up to the yurt. Turn around and see the views. If you ever vacation in this area, consider spending 2 hours inside the yurt with Martha and her students. This month, my extended family is going to take a class together. Healthy bonding. Yes, the guys are coming too! Ok Ok, you don’t believe me. You might think that only thin, healthy, granola-type young women practice yoga — wrong! See the last image. He is a regular guy (no, he is not joe the plumber) leaving class today. Yoga in the yurt is one of the reasons I love living in Maine. The practice is as compelling as the location & views.

the cryptogram revealed

Post Script from yesterday: The little mechanical pencil was the first to sell! The cryptogram was solved by the buyer. Thank you kind buyer for sharing your knowledge. "I imagine you want to know the answer to the cryptogram? It's stock market prices -- but I can't figure out what year. It shows IBM at $406 a share?? And AT&T (symbol is T) at $96."

hitting the thrift stores for treasure

Today was my first day back on the thrift circuit following the holidays. My rule for shopping is: At least one item purchased on a shopping trip has to be sold, and that sale has to cover the cost of the other items bought that day. That will be easy to do today. Treasure found: Three Liberty of London scarves, a great geek mechanical pencil with a cryptogram-type inscription on its clip, also two nice vintage Dansk glass pieces in original boxes. And, of course, clothes, clothes clothes. I quickly list the items on Etsy that will pay for today's indulgence.