When I had lunch in Adrian, TX, the waitress told me to go to Vega, a slightly bigger town east on Route 66, and visit Dot’s Mini Museum (105 N. 12th St.). She had me at Dot, then you throw in mini and the cuteness is too much to ignore. So I went.
I expected to make a donation or at least meet someone inside, but nope, you just walk in and look around at your leisure. (There was a truck parked at the house next to the museum, so I assume someone was watching to make sure I didn’t rob the place.) The brochure says Dot is dead now, but her daughters, Betty and Bonnie, curate the collection. And what a collection it is. You’re greeted by this guy:
Howdy.
Here’s the exterior:
The horse on the left is either talking or about to bite. Both are alarming.
Not only were there fun things to look at:
Though the thought of the dusting involved made me want to take a nap.
And covet:
-
Want.
Buck Owens on vinyl? WANT.
But the fact that this woman’s memory is kept alive by her daughters in a tiny room in a tiny town on a side road you’d never find just driving through makes me want to weep. In the sweetest way.
I’m not much of a collector – clutter gives me hives – but I can only hope that after I’m gone someone will remember me with as much love and respect.
Adios.
Okay, I’m getting weepy again. Kiss your loved ones, and have a great weekend.