There is a tiny affliction in my family, that odd object speak to us. I had it happen in high school with a Buddha pendant from and antique kiosk and my mother ended up buying it for me for Christmas that year because it was all I talked about. I still have it and I still wear it.
It happened to boy child this summer down in Hampden on the Avenue at an antique store. We ended up bringing home a carved wooden statue of a Japanese fisherman with what appeared to be a alien-like head. Like close encounters alien. The head, though human and matching the body, seems oddly disproportionate to the rest of him. But I digress...
As you can see, it happened to girl child today at a local bazaar with "The Chief". That is how he was labeled. I think they missed the words "Creepy Pants". Big Chief Creepy Pants seems about right. Yes, it is plaster, yes it is huge (about 2 feet), yes it is hand painted by a non professional--no, no! I know you think it was but I assure you, despite its impeccable facade it is definitely the work of an amateur. (Oh. My. God) AND...it appears to be sporting rather deadly talons instead of fingernails on the hand that is clutching the AXE!
(funny aside: she says to me "Maybe he is a Cherokee chief, Ma" as if this will make me feel better about her purchase. Our bloodline is heavily peppered with Cherokee, but somehow I don't think he'd care if we're related or not)
The amusing part of this to me is not that I have a blood thirsty half shifter Indian Chief armed with an axe in my home, it's that it was purchased by the same child that once made me lock a ventriloquist's dummy in the trunk of my car because she thought it was going to come into her room at night. Does she not fear Big Chief's death claws?
Anyhoo, here are some other pics
When I turned around on the deck, this was on the other side. A gorgeous plump moon.
Maybe I'll lock him in the trunk of my car.