No foolin’, if somebody offered this very day to buy all my crap for even half of what I paid for it, I’d be the happiest clam on the beach. I’d move into a tiny househitched to the back of a pickup truck and … and … Oh hell, I don’t know. Something or other. I’d work all that out when the time came.
There’s a place in Easley called Tiny Town. It’s the love child of Perry and Ollie Jennings, now deceased, a quarter-acre collection of wooden hutches where hundreds of figurines, most of them dolls, have been on display year-round for 35 years. Years that have treated them none too kindly, I might add. Speaking of tiny houses …
Head north on Kay Drive at the Truck Farm dealership, turn right at the first 4-way stop and, if it’s December and the sun is down, you can’t miss it. At other times of the year, you might mistake it for a rabbitry.
According to The Easley Progress, Tiny Town, which I last blogged December 6, 2008, draws thousands of visitors each year. Their cars line the ditches (or, as I heard one woman call them, the “hollers”) on either side of Latham Road and their children seem genuinely to enjoy the spectacle, peeling paint and all.
I find it vaguely unsettling.