Trailer Trashtastic

on a mission to live in & love our mobile home

Posts Tagged ‘Volkswagen

Frustration

with 14 comments

So.

I know that nearly every time I finally get around to posting on Trailer Trashtastic I start with a big fat apology for why I’ve largely abandoned this blog… this time isn’t much different but I’m feeling the need to blather on awhile about my reasons.

Obviously Sugar Dish Me keeps me busy. New posts go up there 4 or 5 days a week and my forays into web design/monetization are pretty time consuming. That doesn’t include all the hours I spend in the kitchen. You understand that excuse, right? It’s a pretty good one, I think.

But lately I’m really frustrated..

When I launched Trailer Trashtastic I was pretty excited to try to morph this itty bitty living space into something tolerable while we save up to move into a much happier, permanant, and larger place… preferably one that isn’t mobile. I still have a brain full of ideas and things that I’d like to do “if”, but the “if” is my biggest problem. I am COMPLETELY OVER living in this trailer. My family is rapidly outgrowing the limited space.

The boys are bigger every day and their room is small. Small would be fine, but there’s barely room for two beds and a dresser in there, much less all the toys and things that little boys need. I’ve been looking into purchasing a bed like this.twin over full bunk bed with storage
It would totally help with the space issue in their room, I think, but it’s kind of an investment. And when we move into an actual HOUSE where they can have their own rooms, I’ll have to purchase another bed and then deal with the argumentative aftermath. Who keeps this bed? Who gets the new bed? Blah Blah Blah. Let’s not forget the mattresses that will need to be purchased in addition to the beds. The moral of the story is that this option ain’t cheap.

So I’ve been putting it off.

I’d also like to buy the boys new bedding. They’re bigger now. It’s about time. But bedding has to fit the bed and since I’m up in the air about beds and mattresses, then bedding is in the same boat.

See? Frustrating.

Add to our limited space the fact that we have NO outdoor storage. Which, in retrospect, seems sort of weird since our landlords require us to handle all the yard upkeep. The lawnmower lives under a cover locked to our back porch. So do the bikes (and they are a little weather-worn from all the year-round outside exposure). But the most gimantico problem that having negative outdoor storage when you co-habitate with a fella like Chad is that he has LOTS of things that belong outside.

But they are inside.

Tools to work on the rail buggy. Tools to work on the car. rail buggyTools to put together and take apart all the remote control cars he and Evan have amassed. The pepper plant stuff that went from hobby to obsession rather quickly. Workout gear to infinity. Parts and pieces to ehvureeething ever. And let’s not forget the at least 5 computer towers that live in my bedroom closet.

Please don’t misunderstand me here… I wouldn’t dare complain because my guy can seriously fix anything… I know I am very fortunate. But there is nowhere to put all the fix-it stuff and it gets in my little corners of our home and I always feel like my whole entire space is invaded with boy and sometimes it make me pretty crazy. Like right now.

Frustration #4,287: Norma Jean.

Ohhhhh my kitty… who would have ever thought I could develop such serious affection for a cat? Not me, that’s for sure. But Norma Kitty Jean is special. my danger kittyAnd she’s actually not supposed to be here. A little over 3 years ago when I moved in, the terms were NO PETS. But when we found Miss Norma in our yard, nearly starved, in the dark, so teeny tiny she fit in one of my hands, and was basically just waiting to be eaten by an owl, we just HAD to bring her in and give her some love.

She’s been my faithful and annoying companion ever since. I love this crazy cat. So I ignore the No Pet clause because did they really expect me to leave her out there to die?!!! If I were the property owner, I would evict my tenants for NOT saving a tiny kitty. Not the other way around.

Since we are essentially not supposed to have Norma, I have to do stupid things like hide out in the bedroom with my girl when repairs to our home are being made (we recently had a water leak under the house). It’s probably only a matter of time before we are found out.

So while we’re on the topic of animals, those of you that follow at Sugar Dish Me will know about the puppy that visited our house on New Year’s Eve. If you need to catch up, you can find that article HERE. Anyway, that little puppy has been out in the rain, the cold, and the dark on my neighbors’ porch since they thanklessly retrieved her from me. She has no shelter. And whenever I walk out my back door she pleads at me with these sad eyes. She also told me she hates them. They ignore her.

Usually I try to be kind of politically correct when writing about real life people around me, because WHAT IF they stumbled upon this written word and then freaked out, right? But not this time. My neighbors are total dirtbags. And I’m not okay with the whole puppy situation. Take care of your pets!!!! Because if you don’t then you’re a dirtbag. ‘Nuff said.

Let’s add energy inefficiency to my list of trailer gripes… we can’t keep it warm or cold in here to save our lives. I’ve lived in houses 3 times this size and the power bill was 1/3 less. I’m pretty sure there isn’t any insulation anywhere. So our cheap rent is wasted on an outrageous power bill.

I’ve also decided that socially & culturally this area is just not for me. I’ve had a hard time with this aspect since I moved out here, and it has really isolated me. When I was single with my 2 little guys, no one took me seriously about ANYTHING. When I made a million and one phone calls to find housing before I settled on this place everyone kept asking where my husband was? They all acted like it was completely unfathomable for a woman to take care of herself. They really didn’t want to talk to me. I had to go way above and beyond to prove myself. It was ridiculous, and after growing up in a city (not even a large city!) it sort of blew my mind.

I can’t get used to the idea that everyone needs to ask me who my parents are? Or when they want to know the origin of my last name because they’ve never heard it before (they are looking for a COUNTY of local origin, not a genealogical family history). They do the same thing to Chad whose father wasn’t from this area and I think he’s been offering up these explanations his whole life. The teachers question my children. It’s weird. wine Family names have a whole other meaning here. It bothered me TREMENDOUSLY that the entire community assumed that the crabby old man I used to work for was my dad just because I worked there.

There are no decent restaurants. We have only one super lame movie theater. The mall is definitely close to closing up completely. The “international” aisle in my grocery store consists of a few cans of refried beans and a bottle of soy sauce. There is no art. No theater. Nothing inspiring. Everything closes at 9; 10 if you’re lucky. This is a dry county. That’s right. Buying and selling alcohol is illegal. Prohibition is alive and well in 2013.

But perhaps what’s been most disturbing for me out here is that racism and homophobia are socially acceptable ways to be. That’s not okay for me and my children. And it’s never gonna be.

All of my moaning and groaning is to say that I’m fed up. I feel done with a mobile home. I’m antsy to plant my feet somewhere that feels more like a HOME, even if it’s only temporary. I can’t move my boys in the middle of the school year, though, so in the meantime we are searching. Trying to find someplace we fit. Hoping to find somewhere to be.

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Written by Heather @ Sugar Dish Me

January 14, 2013 at 1:52 am

Buggy-ful Weekend

with 13 comments

If you follow me at Sugar Dish Me you already know all about the rail buggy. An event organized this past weekend by a local Volkswagen parts dealer offered Chad and I a rare opportunity to spend an entire day devoted to his love of Vee-Dub and all things air-cooled. So we loaded up my obnoxiously large purse with bottled water and apples, jumped in the buggy, and got all set to go.

I realize that this has nothing to do with living in a trailer, painting, planting, or otherwise decorating anything, but if you have ever spent any time at a drag strip, you already know it is a completely Trailer Trashtastic activity.

We bring the boys here on hot summer evenings, the humid air thick with the smell of burned rubber and race fuel, and there is always something to see. My kids like to bet each other on which cars will win each trip down the track (this usually ends in an argument, some whining, and eventual separation with instructions to please shut up). There are super fast cars that must have cost all of someone’s retirement fund. Once there was a lady with a tiny monkey in a diaper on her shoulder sitting just below us. She was a side-show waiting to happen.


This is what I could see from up on the hill when we were driving in. A sea of Volkswagen. And some spectators.

About half of these people were here the night before the event; they offered camping and apparently were set to toss an engine block on a bonfire? The novelty of that was lost on me, probably because I’m not a boy and I wasn’t drunk.

We climbed out and I made a beeline for a string of Volkswagen buses. I have an odd sort of fascination with them. Chad wanted to register rail buggy in the show to be judged. See our #55 on the windshield? That means that we – with the rail buggy we drive often, the one that sits out in the rain, slings mud, and climbs hills – were entered into the same competition with the VW bugs, all shined and polished, brandishing the cover of the magazines that featured them. I am convinced we would have won a fancy plaque if only we’d voted for ourselves. Chad thought I was having delusions.




One thing Chad has always wanted to do is drive the buggy down the drag strip.

Like these guys. Except these beetles go really fast.
So fast they kept driving out of my photos.


But after this little green fella made a few passes we decided to give the rail buggy a go…

Click HERE to watch the video (Note: we did not post this and cannot be held accountable for the spelling errors in the title/description… Just sayin.).

We didn’t win any competitions with the rail buggy. We DID win a $25 gift card to a crappy diner though. So after a long day in the hot hot sun with only granny smith apples and water to nourish us, we hopped back in and headed for the restaurant wielding our gift certificate.

Most of the time I am a big advocate of diner food- I even started a series including Diner Classics at Sugar Dish Me. But this diner left a lot to be desired. The whole meal in fact. But the food was free so I learned to never spend any money at this place (except to generously tip our toothless waitress because she was super great) and I left with the resolve to make an edible club sandwich.


Mission accomplished.

The most important thing I learned is that in the obnoxiously large purse with the bottled water and apples, I should have included some sunscreen.

Written by Heather @ Sugar Dish Me

April 25, 2012 at 9:46 pm

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