After going to the Hobart Antique Mall we realized that directly across from it there was another sign reading Antiques across the road. We decided to explore this further having no idea what it was. The sign out front seemed even older and more worn out than the Hobart Village Antiques but there was cars in the lot so we held on for the ride. The entrance was a little weird but we found it and then walked into one of the bizzarest places we’ve been yet. Suddenly we were surrounded on all sides by antique clocks, all ticking. At the risk of dating myself I felt like I was walking into a scene from Hook but unlike the kid in that movie I didn’t have a baseball bat and a bad influence instead I had an immediate panic attack. Ticking is one of my triggers that brings me right back to grade school when some teacher thought it was a great idea to teach children math through timed tests. So we all sat with our multiplication tables and and who got to sit next to the loudly ticking egg timer? You guessed it! Me! I never did learn my multiplication tables and to this day I find timed tests to be child torture. Recently I’ve gone back to learn my math with DuoLingo and was more than horrified to find part of its lessons are again, timed tests. No ticking but still as anxiety inducing.

I swallowed hard and walked in anyway knowing I was being neurotic, these are grandfather clocks, not Acme bombs, and no one’s asking me math questions. Just put on your big kid pants and deal with it.

This place was a two level post and beam barn filled in every corner with grandfather clocks against every wall and in the middle of the room? Tables with smaller mantle clocks. All in pristine condition, all ticking, all reading a different time! So now not only was I sweating hard from panic I was also struggling not to twitch from the chaos of none of them being set right. This is an autistic person’s nightmare, honestly, so much so I noticed I wasn’t taking any photos of individual clocks so I closed my eyes, breathed a moment, and allowed my instinct to drag me to the most interesting looking clock. It had an elaborate wood inlay pattern, the likes I’d never seen before. I took a moment to take a picture of that before walking up the stairs which was decorated with clock faces, so many clock faces.

By the time we made it to the second floor my companion was quietly talking. These clocks are neat but expensive he lamented. He looked at the price tag on one which was over a grand. I blinked, happy to be focusing on something other than the ticking, and said well yeah, the one you picked has a mahogany inlay. By now the shop keep had come up and started talking to us. Ask any questions, he welcomed. So my companion asked about Newport Rhode Island and apparently back in the day they had a few famous clock makers and he pointed out those clocks as we riffed about what an odd place colonial Newport was. One of these clocks was made of solid walnut, I nodded and said, “When we still had walnut trees” which seemed to delight the shop keep who confirmed the sentiment. Black walnut still exist in the United States but are near extinct due to diseases and pests that thrived in the pine forests we planted after cutting down every old forest hardwood tree that existed here. There are conservation efforts going on right now to grow more and the public can help. This is one of the reasons I want to own land – to be a custodian of some of these precious trees, grown from nuts acquired through these programs.

We also got to see a reproduction piece of furniture from the John Brown house that was the most expensive piece of American furniture to be sold at auction. It was indeed beautiful.

I asked what the oldest clock was and he showed us a grandfather clock built in 1610. It was English and spent most of its life in England and France. Strangely enough it was the one clock I took a singular photo of with the ornate wood inlays. I’d been drawn to it for a reason!

We thanked the owner for the history lesson and said we’d refer anyone looking for an antique clock here! Hell, if we ever end up with the old farm house of my dreams I’m not guaranteeing that won’t be us someday. You know if this blog ever goes viral and we end up with clock money!