Apparently the Chicago Trib once called this "the best small museum in the midwest," which seems to be kind of a theme in Sturgeon Bay (see Miller Art Museum, below). It reminds me a bit of a crazy quilt: a bunch of somewhat haphazard exhibits pieced together to make up a quaint and rather charming whole.

When we entered the museum, we found ourselves face to face with a variety of taxidermied (that would be taxidermic to my colleagues who are still obligated to follow Merriam-Webster) animals in a not-behind-glass (good luck finding that in M-W) diorama. It reminded me of a combination of the old-style dioramas in the Grand Rapids Public Museum of my youth (a few of which can still be found in Chicago's Field Museum) and the Rainforest Cafe. Those of you who lived in Grand Rapids in a certain era can also through in a mental image of the tree at Pooh's Corner Bookstore (may it rest in peace).

The entire thing--taxidermy, mural, even construction of the trees and rocks (of pourable styrofoam, because the floor isn't strong enough to hold that much real rock) is the work of one man, Mike Orthober. He continues to add birds and animals to it, actually stuffing them right in the museum for anyone to watch! Only, sadly, not today. I was sorely disappointed, but I did find a video of it on YouTube, so I've got that going for me.

To make up for my disappointment over missing the taxidermy demonstration, I talked Steve into taking my picture on one of the several fire trucks that are housed in the museum along with (I'm not making this up) a display on "Mortuary Coaches of Door County." I was unable to persuade him to be photographed in the jail cell (also in the room with the fire trucks and hearses), however.

Other exhibits include the history of the fish boil (turns out it started at the very restaurant where we enjoyed a fish boil last night), cherry farming in Door County, and--possibly my favorite--a collection of church anniversary plates. (We found this particularly meaningful because in our downsizing we had found a plate commemorating the 75th anniversary of Oakdale Park Christian Reformed Church. We couldn't quite bring ourselves to throw it away—someone might want it!—so we wrapped it in a paper bag and brought it to Oakdale Park CRC the last time we were in Grand Rapids. We told the man who came to the door—he remembered Steve from Steve's childhood, naturally—that we had something from the church, and before we opened the bag he said, "Oh—an anniversary plate?")

We kind of rushed through the last bit of the history museum because we were eager to see the glass-blowing at the Popelka Trenchard gallery. Alas! The information we had didn't give the hours for the glass-blowing, and we had missed it. (Do you notice another theme developing?)

The gallery is totally worth a visit even without any demonstrations, though. It showcases the poured glass of artist Stephanie Trenchard—whom we met! and she was so charming!—and the blown glass of her husband, Jeremy Popelka. (At least I think he's her husband; TripAdvisor says he is. I didn't ask.) 

I had never seen pieces like those Ms. Trenchard creates. She sculpts and paints objects out of glass, then encases them in more glass. A video in the gallery shows the process; it's pretty amazing. (I'm posting these photos with permission, by the way.)

The workshop where they make all these works of art (did I mention that we missed the demonstration?) is attached to the gallery, which would be very handy if one were fortunate enough to be able to combine a visit to the gallery with a viewing of a glass-blowing demonstration. But I'm over it. Totally over it.

Don't tell the Door County Historical Museum, but the Miller Art Museum boasts this review: "the most beautiful small museum I've ever seen." Regardless, any museum that shares a building with a public library is all right in my book, and what's even better is that we didn't "just miss" the exhibit we wanted to see: "Paint the Parks," a collection of works featuring national parks in celebration of the 100th anniversary of the National Park Service.

In fact, not only did we not miss the exhibit; we got in on something we hadn't anticipated: a sort of art garage sale. I was sorely tempted by a box of used fountain pen nibs and three bottles of ink for only $4—maybe less, since it was the last day of the sale and "any reasonable offer will be considered"—but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't come up with a justification that would convince me, much less Steve, so we departed junk-free.

I did find out after we left that there was an entire other wing that we somehow managed to miss, though . . .