You can't miss it. Drive up Shoe House Road past the shoe mailbox, go through the boot-decorated fence and there it is: a giant white boot, every inch of it a playful paean to the glories of the humble but lucrative shoe. Look at every window and you'll see a stained-glass picture of a shoe. On the glazed front door you'll see a stained glass portrait of Haines - brandishing - yes, you guessed, a shoe. And lest Fido should feel left out, there's a shoe-shaped dog house next to it.
The Shoe House is 48ft long and 25ft high. A wooden-framed structure, it is covered with wire lath and coated with cement stucco. It is arranged on five mini-levels, containing three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room and kitchen. Haines never intended to live in his witty monstrosity. For a couple of years, the philanthropic eccentric invited elderly couples and honeymooners to stay for a weekend at his expense, throwing a maid, cook, chauffeur and car into the bargain.
Since Haines's death in 1962, it has been used on and off as a museum dedicated to the whimsical Colonel, and most recently as an ice-cream parlour.