You never know what you will happen when you’re on a road trip from Ontario to Tennessee, with a girlfriend.
The plan was to drive over hill and dale (and try not to eat everything we’d purchased at a wonderful/alarming place called The Cheese Barn before we got to our destination) to see the magnificent rhododendrons in bloom in the Smoky Mountains.
Instead, I fell in love with a Texaco.
I didn’t expect it, but we stumbled upon it in a little town called Lebanon, OH. If you haven’t been there, I recommend their historic downtown. Very vintage-y vibe with lots of place to spend any cash that happens to be burning in your pocket (see how vintage I am? I still use real money!)
But, I was too busy swooning to spend much cash. Like, a Harry Connick sort of vintage-y swoon. Yep, busy, swooning over my Texaco.
It was beautiful, with its white brick facade and original porcelain red lettering. It was a perfect match for the fleet of vintage vehicles bouncing around inside my head.
And did I mention, it was available? Currently a swingin’ single building, just waiting for me to sweep it off its feet!
Be still my beating heart. I’ve always dreamed of living in a place called Lebanon in a Texaco station.
Okay, maybe not. But it seemed like a great idea that day.
All it needed was a vintage soda shop next door and I would have been all set.