Someplace, Somewhere, U.S.A.

Clint and I were traveling down a country highway recently, when we zoomed by this place at 55 mph. Click to enlarge the photo, and see why I made him turn around so that we could check it!


A lot of character here, not to mention a photo op in every corner. The walk up to the front door was paved with with roofing shingles.


A closer look at the front door:


We walked up to that door to find that the establishment was closed. Oh, nooooo! We can't go into this great junky little place? We peeked into the windows for a few minutes, and were heading back down the shingle-walk when the proprietor of the store came screeching into the gravel.

I figure that I can tell you where we were, or I can tell you what happened next, but I just wouldn't feel right telling you both. It would be a matter of national junk store security.

Here's the nice lady that owned the nice store that hurried up to meet us, out of breath and explaining that she had just driven down to the corner, to her house, to grab the newspaper.

She got to the door, turned around and gave me and Clint the once over. After scrutinizing us for a few seconds, she said "Ok, since it's just you two..." she proceeded to reach into a junkpile, grab this bricklayer's trowel, and after one more glance our way...


...break into her own store, saying "Come on in, let me know if there's anything I can help you with!"

That's kind of the whole story. After that, she parked herself behind the counter with her newspaper, happy to let us have a heyday poking around, trying on hats, and taking as many photos as we wanted to. We were there for well over an hour, bid our goodbyes, and hit the road with dozens of photos. Here are just a few highlights.

The end.