While I certainly agree with this statement, I can not claim to be able to do anything remotely mechanical, or electrical, or plumbical (I know it’s not a word but it should be).

I was out today in my camper trying to redecorate and by that I mean put up some pictures and plaques.  It was not pretty.

I have that awful stuff from the big box DIY store that looks like bead board but is made out of some weird crap called Masonite.  You can not easily pound nails into it. And I should know better because we had it in our daughter’s room and it was near impossible to put anything up on her walls.  But I am an eternal optimist or a bubble off of plumb as I attempted to pound tiny little nails into the walls of my camper.

And to make matters worse, it was HOT in there.  And I don’t do HOT.

After a good hour of pounding, missing, pounding, missing, cursing, pounding, bending the nail, cursing, pounding, dropping the nail, cursing, looking for the nail,cursing, sweating, pounding, missing, cursing, cursing, cursing, I decide I needed to plug in the electricity so I could use the fan.  I really contemplated turning on my AC but by now my brain was fried and for some reason I instead chose the fan.

Fan is running and I decide maybe using my new little drill might be easier than pounding in nails so I plug it in and attempt to figure out which way is forward and which way is backward…”righty~tighty, lefty~loosely”.  Then I have to figure out how to put in the drill bit (oh my gosh, is an electric screwdriver the same thing as a drill?  This is shaped like a gun, so I am assuming it is a drill….am I right?) and does it need that long attachment piece?  By now, I have been baking at 375 degrees for way more than an hour and I look at the fan and I notice that the cord is in the front of it (it is a really cool old vintage fan) and so I turn it around and lo and behold, I had had the fan facing backward….about now my frustration level is up around “I need a hot fudge sundae as big as a mixing bowl” and I am just about ready to either cry or set the damn thing on fire.

I am having some gal pals over on Saturday and I wanted to have my camper all redone in my new theme (vintage cowboy) and of course, I wait until the last possible moment because stress must be my drug of choice and I’m an addict.

Ok, drill in hand, I find some screws and attempt to screw one in.  Can’t remember which way to push the lever to make it go in, have to look again at screw gun and try each way to see which is “tighty” and which way is “loosey”.  Put screw back up and start driver and screw falls down behind cushion.  Locate screw while adding new words to my cursing vocabulary.  Put screw up where I want it, not sure which way to push lever AGAIN, take screw down, push levers to see which is “tighty” and which is “loosey” all the while thinking I must be on the brink of dementia since I can’t seem to remember how to run the *&%^%$ drill.   Third try is the charm, right?   Nay, nay.

Now the screw has fallen on the floor somewhere and the sweat is dripping off my face and my Van Wave temper is just about to blow and I am debating on either throwing the drill through the screen door or just screaming at the top of my voice until I stroke out.

How flipping hard can it be to put one tiny screw into a piece of real beadboard?  Seriously…… I raised a child.  I held jobs.  I drive a car.  I sang Italian arias.  I have created hundreds of different pieces of arts and crafts.  I should be able to screw one lousy screw in and pound a small nail in straight, right?

Apparently not.

I have resorted to smashing tacks into the walls with a hammer and hand screwing the screws in after smashing a nail in to make a hole to screw the screw in.    After putting up a couple of things I decided it was time for a break and a cold one and a hot burrito would make it all better.

Two hours later, I am still breaking.  I may be breaking all the rest of the night.

Your Queen (who can’t do anything normal)





Every so often, my brain misfires and I get these ideas that at the time seem like they could be so fun to do but in reality never seem to turn out quite like I had envisioned.  Like taking my mom camping….

My sister has a piece of property set back way off a dirt road in an older part of a fast growing suburban area and she has a very nice 30-plus ft. travel trailer parked there and a large deck and a beautiful yard, everything you could want in your “home away from home” so I figured that since my mom has never been camping in her life, it was about time.

So after more than a year of nagging at Jodi to invite us up for a camp-out and at least that long to convince Ruby that it really wasn’t like camping but more like a small hotel with a flushable toilet and real beds, it finally came together this weekend.

24 plus hours of “roughing it” and womanly bonding and food and no men….sounds heavenly.

Well, it turned out to be more like the opposite side of heavenly…..

It was in the high 80’s and humid when I began de-glamping my camper in order to bring her over to Jodi’s. It would be the first time I had ever towed anything that didn’t have my husband in it making hand signals that I never understand and causing us to have some of our best fights over.  I would be towing the camper all by myself with our Honda Passport suv.  Scott swore I would have no problems towing and I used to blindly trust that he knew all about things like that until I began joining RV groups online.  I have read horror stories about blown tires, overturned trailers and the vehicles that are pulling them, people being electrocuted because they plugged into a receptacle that was backwards or something like that.  I learned that just because you have an SUV you may not be able to pull your trailer after you pile all your stuff into it cause it is only rated for 4000 pounds dry weight and you have exceeded that by a couple of thousand pounds of “cute stuff” that your glamper really needs.   Oh and did I mention that there was a full-sized cast iron tub in the back of the Honda?  And a big, ol tire?   Not, mind you, a spare tire for my camper….nay, nay.  My camper has NO spare tire.   The advice I got upon questioning my husband about what I should do if I should get a flat on the camper on the way over…..”Hum, that’s a good question”.   He would be at work so I could not call him to help out and we do not have AAA coverage for RV’s so I would be up that proverbial creek without so much as a spare paddle!

It took me a good hour or more to take everything off the walls and tables and then countless trips to bring the stuff I was going to take with me so by the time I was done getting everything ready, my body temp was around 106 and I was wringing wet and feeling quite woozy.  My body kept screaming, “ARE YOU NUTS”? “You get sick when the temp is over 70”.   I had quite the battle raging between giving up and staying home and disappointing my mom and sister and just trying to muster up the fortitude to just “man up” and get over there.   So I got into the Honda and off I went.


I drove at the breakneck speed of 43 MPH and took every back road I could think of to get there since I realized that:  a) I did not have any extended mirrors so I could not see past the front of the camper and b) I had no license plates….I had just gotten the title and tabs the day before and there is no where to put them up.

There was a nice breeze but I was terrified that I would hit a cross wind and that would make my camper start to sway and I have no sway bars on it so every time I came across a field or place where the wind was not buffeted by trees my hands were clenched around the steering wheel (that wasn’t the only part of me that was clenched, either!) and I just waited to for it to start to sway out of control and tip over and take me and the claw-foot tub with it.

Finally I get to the road where I am supposed to turn and I am positive my sister said to turn LEFT.  So I did and I am driving along this dirt road and I see the addresses on the mail boxes are HIGHER than what my sister told me her’s was but like any optimist I just kept driving hoping that maybe they would magically start to get smaller.   The longer I drove, the less optimistic I was beginning to be and now the sweat started to pour down my brow not only from the dang heat but from the fear that I would have to BACK UP!

My husband has offered to teach me how to back up the camper but since it takes practice and if you remember earlier in this story, our track record at using hand signals is very poor, so I have declined his kind offer.  So I have absolutely no experience in backing up a camper.  None.  Nada.  Zip.  Zilch.

Well the good Lord had mercy on me because at the end of the road was a stop sign and another dirt road so I could turn right and pull up a bit and then if I could back up straight, I could just back up far enough to then make a right turn back on the dirt road and go in the right direction.  Sounds easy enough, eh?  Ever try backing up a trailer?  With NO extended mirrors?  I could not see what was behind the trailer whatsoever.   What I could see in my side mirrors was the camper at a right angle to my SUV.  It was like I was on black ice.  I would start out straight but after a few feet the camper was making all these sharp turns all by itself cause my car was still going straight.  I must have tried going forward and then backing up at least 7 or 8 times before I finally got  to where if I turned right sharply and watched the ditch on the left side of the road and no one was in the on-coming lane, I could get back on the road going in the right direction.

Finally after what should have taken me 15 minutes to drive but ended up more than an hour, I chugged into my sister’s property where I found my mom and my sister laughing hysterically.  They said they thought the “Clampetts” were coming down the road.  In my defense, it’s darn hard to drive smoothly in first gear pulling a camper with a cast-iron bathtub in your back seat down a bumpy and winding old dirt path!

I get out of the car and the first thing my sister says is she wants to see the inside of the camper.  I am beyond stressed, my face is on fire from the heat, my head is throbbing from the increase in blood pressure from the drive (all of about 18 miles!!) and the LAST thing I want to do is climb into that tin can inferno and start putting back all the stuff that has been tossed about and make it look “cute”.   I said in my kindest voice,  filled with sisterly love….”Whadda nuts”?  “I’m too dam (as in a structure that holds back water) hot”! But I had to take the time to plug in the cord to get electricity to run my AC and my fridge….priorities, priorities.

It was stinkin’ hot sitting outside and Moe and Curly were having an animated discussion about the merits of putting up the awning that is attached to the motor home.  All we needed was some fast-paced piano music and you would have thought you were watching a silent film….down the awning would go, up the awning would go, down the awning would come and water would rain down from it, back up the awning would go and all the while Ruby is giving Jodi advice… one point I kinda thought maybe Ruby would end up wearing the awning but the show ended and the awning stayed up (at least until Billy came and the show started all over…..)

We sat outside enjoying the day with Jodi’s son, daughter-in-law and grandson.  They say that teens are always checking their phones and posting photos but I caught my mom checking her FB feed more than once!!!

Which leads me to this disclaimer:  Photos posted yesterday on FB were not “approved of” nor was I aware that I was being photographed and my photos sold to the tabloids as “Kirstie Alley got fat again and cuts and colors hair to hide her identity”.   I’m sure Jodi must have used a FAT APP or a circus fun house app!

Jodi's photos of me make me look like this!

Jodi’s photos of me make me look like this!

All during the day, my mom would make comments about being leery of camping….what about wild animals or crazed killers roaming about and Jodi and I would laugh since what we were doing could hardly be called “camping” and why would some crazed killer be in the neighborhood and how on earth would they ever find us way down that long, long driveway and why would they choose us to bother since there are homes on either side of my sister’s property?  But she clearly was not a100% happy camper.

Mother complaining about how hard camping is!

Mother complaining about how hard camping is!

Jodi made us a delish dinner of grilled steaks and hobo potatoes and then we adjourned into the trailer for a few hours of cards.  My mom could not eat every bite of her steak and my sister told her she had to or else the smell of the left over steak would cause bears from all over the Tri State area to come and rip open the trailer like a giant ripping open a can of sardines.  And the leftover foil on the grill was a sure-fire way to get the Northern Grizzly bear to come and kill us all.  This news sent my poor mom into a tizz and all night long she badgered Jodi to go out and get that foil off of the grill and Jodi being Jodi just egged her on by saying that no way was she going to go out there in the dark and get that foil.  We would just have to take our chances.

By now it is well after 10pm and we are playing a new card game (and by the way, the old saying, “You can’t teach an old blonde new tricks” is sooooo true!!!!) and we have laughed so much that mom had almost forgotten that she had to sleep on the couch in the “livingroom”.  Once she remembered she asked Jodi if she ever shuts her shades and pulls her curtains in the trailer and Jodi says “noooo” and my mom insists that Jodi get up and pull some shades cause she doesn’t want anyone to look at her when she is sleeping. (I hear there are quite a pack of Peeping Raccoons in the area so I can understand her concern).  So Jodi gets up and pulls some shades down and we get back to our game.

Suddenly we hear Jodi’s dinner bell being rung.  Now this is a medium sized cast iron bell that you have to pull the rope to make it ring and it is located right on the garage at the peak.  At first we tell ourselves it might be the wind but Ruby is not convinced and she wants Jodi to do something.  Then it rings again and Jodi says no way is that the wind that there must be someone out there ringing it.

is this the bell ringer?

is this the bell ringer?

So I go into the bedroom and try to see out the window to the garage but the flood light is on but the spot where the bell is is pitch black and there is NO wind.  By now the Rubester is in a frenzy and is yelling at Jodi to call her son who just lives a mile away.  I ask if maybe it is he who is out there and playing a trick on us but Jodi says no, that he would not do that knowing how scared she and my mom would be.  I am still thinking it is no big deal, that maybe it is some kids goofing around tho I can’t imagine where they would have come from.  I tell my mom that what kind of killer would ring the bell to let himself be known.

Or maybe it's him?

Or maybe it’s him?

And then it rings again and Jodi calls her son and he says he is in bed and there is nothing for us to worry about.  So we scurry around pulling shades and curtains that Jodi didn’t even know she had.  I get ticked cause I hate not knowing so I grab a steak knife and go out on the deck and my sister follows me with a barbecue fork.

weapons of choice

weapons of choice


My mom is FREAKING out that Jodi and I are out on the deck but also that we left the door open and bugs were getting in!!!!   Jodi yells to my mom that everything is fine that “Robyn has her gun” and there is no reason to be upset.

me with the imaginary gun

me with the imaginary gun

We see and hear nothing so we go back in and Jodi attempts to lock all four locks on the door (I have NEVER seen so many locks on a camper door).  We are standing there wondering what to do when everything goes BLACK.  Someone has cut the power to the camper.  There is dead silence while our minds race to every scary show we had ever seen where right before the killer comes in, the power goes out!!!!  I’m sure we looked just like this:


All I can think of is “Oh crap, we are screwed” and I grab the barbecue fork (which was from the dollar store so it was made from some crappy metal and could not have stabbed a ripe banana) and Jodi frantically calls her son and whispers, “Billy, get over here quick, someone cut the power to the camper” and before he can reply, her phone cuts out.  She looks at me and I just start to say….”No one can cut the power to your cell phone” when there is loud banging on the door.  I just know it is this clown…..

The clown of Death

The clown of Death

In a booming voice my sister screams out..”WHO’S THERE?”  and we hear this voice say, “You said to get right over”….it was her son though how on earth he got there in a matter of seconds…and then he says, “Mom, hurry and open the door, I hear noises”.   Imagine for a moment if the Incredible Hulk had a mother and something was threatening her child no matter how big he was….it was like watching my sister get superhuman strength but at the same time can’t get the four locks to open….I honestly thought she was going to rip the door off with her bare hands….she finally gets the door open and the shade is flapping and she pulls her son into the camper and he is laughing his fool head off.  Laughing so hard he is crying….we are trying to tell him about the crazed killer outside and he is hysterical.  Turns out the only clown outside was this one:



Seems he decided to play a little prank on his dear family and came over and rang the bell and turned off the power and thought about making animal noises and doing stuff outside the trailer.  He saw us come outside and for a split second he wasn’t sure I really didn’t have a gun!  (But on a serious note, I’m sure more than one person HAS been killed by playing a joke on others who were armed.  My husband has always told me to “Shoot first and ask questions later”….so would I have shot thru the door if he had tried to get in and not said who he was?  Who knows…..though he is lucky that I did not poke him with the barbecue fork  and my mom was armed with this:

The deadly mini whisk broom and dust pan!!

The deadly mini whisk broom and dust pan!!

We figured she wanted to make sure the crime scene was neat and tidy cause she didn’t want it to get around that they found her body in a messy camper!

We decided that we must have strong hearts after what my nephew put us through.  It took my poor momma at least an hour or more to calm down after he left and she wanted us to all stay up and play games and said there was no way she was going to sleep.  Finally at 1am, I went back to my own camper (much to the dismay of my mom) and promised myself that I would never go camping again without some kind of weapon as it is a horrible feeling to have nothing to defend yourself with other than a steak knife and a crappy dollar store barbecue fork!  We were all awake until daybreak eventhough we were exhausted (must have been that adrenalin rush).

Somehow, I doubt very much there will be a second camping trip for Miss Ruby Jean and I bet Mr. Billy will get *”car wash tickets” instead of money in his birthday card this year!!!!

*family joke…



THIS IS WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE WHEN WE BOUGHT IT BACK IN JUNE OF 1213 imageimageimageimageimageimageimage   TODAY


image image




It is not fully completed.  I still need to paint more on the outside and to seal up the paint.  I used a fantastic paint called, “Annie Sloane Chalk Paint” for the both the inside and outside of the camper but it needs to be sealed.  I also need to paint the bumper and the tongue and the wheels but none of that will get done this year as tonight will be my last night of having her (The Bohemian Babushka) untarped.  Tomorrow she gets all buttoned up for winter 😦

I would have loved to have kept her “on display” in my front yard and decorated her for Xmas but I am not sure if that is good for the camper or not.  At least the tarp keeps the snow and ice off of her.

In looking back, there are some things I would have done differently.  A bathroom is definitely a necessary room if you have anyone camping with you!  I would give up my “bedroom” space if I could get Scott to make me a “water closet”.  I think I may have to hire someone next year to do it for me since he has big plans of his own and spending time (for the third summer) working on my glamper is not a high priority for him anymore.  She is road worthy and I am grateful for all the hard work, time and money he put into her for me!

Now I have to learn how to tow her and set her up and take her down all by myself.  Scott went with me on our maiden camping voyage but got some very strange looks from all the other men in the campground when he would come and go.  Actually, we both got some odd looks!  I think they must think I am some old pot-smoking hippie as my camper does look a bit psychedelic and I do have colorful dreads…LOL

Our one camping trip took us to a really nice campground down in Sturgeon Lake during Labor Day weekend.  I took a drive around the grounds one day and every camper there, save one, was newer and huge.  I felt like Bette Midler’s character in the remake of “The Stepford Wives”!   (If you haven’t seen the movie, you must watch it.  Bette’s a successful author but lives a life filled with “Creative Clutter” and it drives her husband crazy!)  I kept waiting to be asked to leave since obviously we were the oddballs there (so what else is new?) but everyone who came by to check us out was very nice and a couple of folks really liked the camper.  I would have loved to have been  a fly around the morning coffee pot in the rec hall and heard what folks were saying about us!!!

I am hoping next year to do much more camping in the Bohemian Babushka and wish I had a Glamping Sister to come along with me in her Glamper.  If I get my bathroom, I will have to sleep on the dining table and cushions that make up into a bed but I still have a bunk above that for the grandbabies to sleep on so what more do I need?  And if Scott wants to come along, I’ll just throw a blow-up bed in the back of the tow vehicle and he can sleep there!

Did you notice that I have no sink or stove?  That was intentional.  I never cook while camping and if Scott is around he can cook anything on an open fire or grill.  As long as I have my morning coffee and bread and peanut butter, I am good to go!  I am all about “relaxing” when it comes to camping.  (Scott says he can’t understand why I like to go camping since I do “relaxing” at home just as well.  But at home, I feel somewhat guilty doing nothing but when I am camping, I have NO guilt just reading or knitting or sewing or napping.)

So grab your checkbooks and get out there and find yourself a little camper of your own and come camping with me next summer.  I promise we will have the time of our life.  I wonder how you would say, “Let’s Go Camping” in Latin????

(Best I could find is Latin for “going camping”….ire movebunt castra primi…hmmm, not quite as catchy as I had hoped…tho “movebunt” is now my new favorite word…as in, “I gotta movebunt outta this chair and get some food”!)

Until next time,

I remain the Queen of my own kingdom,











I just signed up for my first “Glamp-Out” and I am so excited I could spit!

It is being held at Timberline RV Resort in Sturgeon Lake during the Labor Day Weekend.  Not only will I get to meet some other glampers but there is a campground wide rummage sale on Friday and a PROM on Saturday night (theme to be determined at a later date)!  Mercy, I am in hog heaven.

This is just the kick in the butt I need to make sure the rehab takes place this spring on my little camper.  I had to pay in advance for my four night stay and it is unrefundable (you can change your reservation to a different time but no cash refund) so if I don’t get the camper done, I will be staying in my Matrix car!

For all you campers out there if a rummage sale and prom sound fun, make your reservations now as I’m sure it will fill up soon.  Timberline is a really nice campground.  My in-laws had a seasonal spot there for years and we would usually camp with them once or twice a year.  It has a pool, a rec center, tubing, etc.  All sites have electricity and water.  Check out the website Timberline RV

I am ready to par-tay, so I hope some of you will join me down at the campground!!!  You don’t need to be a Glamper as we will have a group site but there are awesome sites all around us that you can stay at and still share in the fun as the events are open to everyone in the campground and their guests.

Check it out!



So it’s been a couple of weeks since I got my sweet little camper.  We have discovered that she needs more work than we thought.  We (don’t you love how I say “we”, when everyone knows I don’t do a darn thing) took out the couch/bed frame and found she has some floor rot and a big cancer hole in her back wall and no electrical wire to the outside.  The man who sold her was so surprised to learn that the big wire was gone…someone must have stolen it….ya….sure.  The ceiling is all coming down, thought we could just replace part of it.  But eventho she is in need of more TLC (aren’t we all?) than at first glance, I still love her and can’t wait to fix her up. With that said, I have had no problems buying stuff to decorate her with.  Ya, I know, cart before the horse….blah, blah, blah.   What if we have a sudden burst of energy and go at her in a mad flurry and she gets all fixed up and has nothing to wear?  How could I do that to her?  Well, you can rest easy cause I have been working my fingers to the bone on ebay, outbidding everyone on some cool stuff.

imageI bought an awesome 50’s turquoise lamp that has that metal tiered shade and the base is a telephone with a clock and the handpiece is a lighter….how stinkin’ cool is that?

image And I got a tiny plastic TV that you put a photo in the screen….got to have my grands with me, right?

And I have two yards of vintage barkcloth material in the washer as we speak.  And a set of multi-colored chalkware fish from the 60’s and another 2.72 yards of new retro barkcloth material coming (these last two items might be for the next camper I buy as they won’t really go into my “theme” of this camper but I was lured by their colors and had to get them!  I know, I know…it’s a sickness.)  And I think I have something else coming but for the life of me, I can’t remember….but it will be retro, I’m sure!

So, besides spending the money I should be saving for the repairs, I bought a set of six wild colored flamingos.  I should have suspected something was amiss when the box they came in was labeled, “Plastic Livestock”.  image At first they looked harmless enough.  But come the next morning, all hell broke loose as they escaped their box and began the endless reign of terror.imageAt first, I had thought they must have gotten outside but I looked everywhere for them but could not find them  Later, tho, I began to get the eerie feeling I was being watched.image I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was like there were eyes watching me.  The feeling got even stronger when I went into my bathroom.image It freaked me out so much, that feeling that someone or something is silently,  stalking you that I had to go to bed.  I had awful nightmares about flamingos invading my home.image I even had to get up and go into the closet and turn on the lights to see if there was anything in there.  I felt like one of those dumb women in the horror flicks that go places where the audience knows there is something horrid lurking.  But I didn’t see anything…(do you?)image What was really frightening was when I went outside the next morning, I found all these brightly colored piles of what I can only call “poop” at each one of my windows laying in the grass.  I picked up a pile to see if I could tell what it was and I took a photo in case I needed some kind of evidence.image  I don’t mind telling you that by now, I am really scared.   All that day, I was hyper aware of my surroundings.  I would jump at the slightest sounds.  Even Madd Maxx would look into thin air and make low growling sounds.  When I went to bed that night, I made sure that all the windows were locked and I even locked my bedroom door after checking under the bed (nothing could live under there….they would sufficate in all the dust) and in the closet.  I slept fitfully that night….I kept thinking I could hear odd breathing sounds.  Imagine my horror when I awoke in the morning and rolled over to see if Scott had come home from work.image  My worst nightmare had come true!!!  I screamed and ran out of the bedroom and locked myself in the bathroom.   After what seemed like hours, I cautiously came out of the bathroom and peeked into my bedroom.  Nothing was there.  Had it just been one of those really real nightmares?  I looked all over the house and still found nothing.  By now, I am really starting to wonder if I am losing what little I have left of my mind.   I was out in my front porch and I found a scrap of paper and it had the words, “bewar of big brds” scratched on it in some kind of pink liquid.  Now what?  I was soon to find out.

I was eating lunch when I heard this awful screeching coming from my garden.  I thought something had been attacked by a dog or something.  Oh, if only it were that humane…..this is what I encountered.image  The note I had gotten had come from my pet pink flamingos and the gang of wild plastic livestock had found out and had killed the snitches!  A cold chill ran down my spine and all I could think of was the ending of the Sorpranos.  I fainted dead away.

This my friends is the life I am leading now.  Who knew what terrible trials would be fall me as I innocently bought that first camper.  If only I had known….if only.




This is my new love.  A 1975 Pathfinder trailer.  Isn’t she sweet?  I am joining a group of wild women who are buying vintage trailers and fixing them up and taking to the open road to join like-minded gals all across the nation.  It’s called, “Glamping” which is glamorous camping.  The founder of this movement is the one and only Mary Jane Butters.  (Google her, she is amazing!)  She wrote a book called, “Glamping” and I was hooked from the first page.  Years ago I had read an article about a group of women who had these funky little campers that they had restored and they would gather to go fly fishing and I wished back then that I had a little camper to fix up.  The desire never went away but it was always just a’simmerin on the back burner until I saw some photos on Pinterest of vintage campers and this glamping movement.

I expressed my desire to my husband to get a vintage camper (the man is the definition of “long-suffering and patient”) and he told me he had seen a couple of old campers close by just sitting in fields.  I had been looking high and low on my trips into Duluth, hoping I would see one for sale so I was really excited that he knew where some were.  I had assumed they were for sale and when he showed me this little cutie, I was crushed it didn’t have a For Sale sign on it.  And it was next to a truck just a few yards away from a house.  As we drove by, we saw a woman in the yard and my man pulls into the driveway as I am yelling, “No, don’t stop. It’s not for sale”.  He says everything is for sale if the price is right!  He gets out and goes looking for the woman and i am crouched down in the front seat.  I am never comfortable just popping in and chatting up some stranger.  My husband thinks nothing of driving up and looking at things.  I always try to hide when he does that.

What’s that?  She is letting him look at the trailer.  He is looking in the trailer.  My hopes start to rise a bit.  Surely if they weren’t interested in selling she wouldn’t let him look at it.  Hubby gets back into car and says that the woman will have her husband call us if he is interested in selling it.  Well, that ain’t gonna happen I think.  Later that night, the phone rings and he will sell it for what I think is a super good price.  So we make arrangements for me to see it the next night.  I am so excited I can barely stand it.

Wake up the next day and it’s raining.  Will he still let me come and check it out in the rain?  On and off all day it rains.  Part of me thinks this is a good sign as I will surely be able to see if it leaks now that it has rained but maybe he won’t be too happy to be standing out in the rain while I go thru my check list of things my Glamping books tells me to look for before buying.  I am a wreck by the time it is to go.  At least the rain has stopped.  We take two vehicles since I will go directly to work from his place.

And did I mention I only had half the money he wanted?  Hubby says we can give him some down and the rest in two weeks but I am afraid he won’t take the deal.  What if we need all the cash now?  How much blood can I sell?  Too bad they don’t need fat.  I’d be rolling in dough!

We pull up and he comes out and we walk to the field and hubby checks out the exterior and looks underneath and the man tells us what doesn’t work and what he has fixed.  No deal breakers are seen from the outside.  Now it’s my turn.  I go inside and immediately fall in love.  I can see that she has good bones and my decorating ideas are coming fast and furious.  I smell no mold and see no mice poop (very unusual as our fifth-wheel is a mouse mansion).  I want this trailer and say so (ya, I know.  You shouldn’t seem eager when wheeling and dealing but I am willing to give him what he wants!  Do not take me with you if you want a good deal on something.  I have been known to give MORE than the asking price just to be nice…..) so I leave hubby to do the negotiating and I go to my job expecting hubby to text me the moment he gets into the car.  One hour goes by….no word.  Two hours go by…no word.  I text him.  Three hours go by and I am a nut case.  Did we get it or not.  Finally the text I have been waiting for.  But wait….why does hubby start off with an apology?  Oh no, this can’t end well.  My heart falls to the ground.  I read further…..hubby is sorry he could only get him down $100!!!!  What?????  I was ready to give him the full amount and he got him to drop the already really cheap price by $100 AND he will deliver it to our house before he gets the balance of the payment.  What a nice guy.  What a wonderful husband.  What a lucky girl I am.

Of course my first thought was, “What can I buy to put in it”.  I must be getting wiser in my aged life as I stopped myself since I have to tear down half of the ceiling and replace it.  I also decided to remove the couch/bed and the storage area in the rear and take out the heater.  I want to use an antique small bed I have and to replace the propane heater with an electric hearth stove.  And I will rip up and replace the linoleum and all the curtains and the cushions on the benches by the table.  And then I will paint the whole inside and decorate it to my heart’s desire as my husband has given his OK (actually what he said was, “Do what you want.” “I’ll never go in it”.  But it was in a nice tone).

Now HOW I am going to decorate it is a big problem as I want to do it in five different “themes”.   (Those of you on Pinterest, search vintage travel trailers and you will see countless different themed campers and will understand my dilemma!)  My first inclination was to do it “retro 50s” as I love that era.  Lots of aqua and pink or red and white.

But alot of the Glampers have retro so my next thought was “retro cowboy”.  Lots of red and brown and gold and white. Vintage cowboy boot lamps.  Camp blankets.  Olive green canvass.  Some retro lodge thrown in for good measure.  Paint the outside the same colors as my new funky cowgirl boots.

Ya, but I saw some campers all done in retro pink.  So fun.  So perky.  Throw in some flamingos to add whimsy.  But would I feel like I was living inside a Pepto Bismol bottle?

How about a Dr. Seuss colored camper.  I love, love, love bright and vivid colors.  Tangerine and lime and lemon yellow and purple and blue and red and raspberry.  Paint the outside white with multi-colored polkadots…..ya but with my polkadot hair, I might be mistaken for a lost clown and instead of a little car, I’m in a little camper.

So I am thinking of serene cottage.  A few favorite retro metal toys.  My antique bed.  Using my vintage pink floral bark cloth curtains on the windows.  My old, old, old, cream colored cotton thread crocheted bedspread that my grandma Tillie bought at an estate sale back in the 60’s.  My vintage chenille bedspreads on the benches at the table.   A long, sheer lacy curtain to close off the little sitting/bedroom area.  Old suitcases stacked on the upper bunkbed to hold all my extras.  A little chandelier and vintage hankie covered lampshades.  A hooked rug on the floor.  Repro tin ceiling tiles.  Maybe even old wallpaper on one wall.  Sounds good doesn’t it…

BUT what about Gypsy/Bohemian?  Lots of velvet and tassels and beading and jewel colors…..royal blues, eggplant, burgundy, claret, emerald green, gold filigree, deep pinks, lots of layers, lots of scarves and shawls draping this and that.  Paint the outside a dark lime green and purple and black with splashes of red and yellow and fuchia.

Ahhhhhhh, see my dilemma?   Too many choices.  What would you do?  How would you decorate your own little playhouse on wheels?  Your sanctuary from the chaotic world.  Your Glamper?

I shall be posting my progress on my little dream with lots of photos so I hope you will stay with me for the duration and maybe at the end, I will have an open glamper party and everyone will be invited to view my work of “heart”!