I should have bought this. Look at that face:
Whoa. These are iron banks and toys, I think:
The skeleton strikes a chord with me. That robot may be red but it looks like a worried Democrat:
Oh, dear. I hope they have health insurance:
Looks like these alarm clocks were buried in someone's yard for a while to give them that vintage patina:
If you went to Brimfield looking for a rusty red gas can, you'd be in luck:
Gas masks are always in style, somewhere:
Creepy Christmas in July. The more I looked at these guys the more I didn't want to. And what is that elf doing with a sled full of dead reindeer?
An older dealer with a long white beard filled his whole tent with zombie portraits and so on:
I prefer the doll-head artisans:
Hey, look: Normal Antique Stuff:
This was just too weird to ignore. Look at the scary little creatures in that box that forms the base of what looks like a bird house with side porches and a scary monster at the door. All of the components are joined together to form a single, cohesive . . . whatever.
If they ever do a sequel to Deadwood, here are some of the costumes for the saloon girls:
What did I buy, you ask? I did not buy any animals, dead or imaginary. Nor did I buy anything creepy, ruffly, rust, or strange. I bought this brass-trimmed coromandel box, which holds letters.
And the little one in the front of this picture, which is a tea caddy.
I saw them when I was by myself, took photos, and planned to return with my husband to choose one or two. (The prices were about a third of what I'd expected.) But I was overcome by heat and humidity by the time we met up, and even lunch and a cold lemonade didn't help. We went straight home, where I collapsed and slept for 12 hours. I woke up feeling perky, and remembered the boxes. I knew which field they were in, and that they were in one of three big, covered pavilions, so I looked up the phone number of the person who manages that field, described everything, and he found the dealer and gave her my number. The boxes arrived two days later, wrapped in wads of puppy pads. I should have gotten all three. . . .