queen minnie

I would identify as another blogger fixing up an adorable vintage trailer, if only the statement did not require such a flexible definition of “fixing up” that “sitting in the driveway under a tarp” need qualify. 

I’m kidding.

We haven’t gotten around to buying the tarp yet.

But: She is vintage, she is adorable, and she is ours. I treasure every perfect yellow inch of her.

Yes too, perfect: I love her more this way than if she had come to us brand new. She is worth our effort and our time; and she’s addictive the way any unfinished project is– I am made silly with hoping and too many cleaning products in a closed space.

It is possibility made tangible, and I react similarly to fabric on the bolt, office supplies, unfinished sweaters, dresses I see online but haven’t tried on yet, seed catalogues, shelter dogs, shelter cats, Craiglist, my own pantry and just lately, the human baby.

Minnie is a 1957 Oasis and I feel like she’s unsure what to make of her recent move from a woody little trailer park in Oroville, California to the fence next to our fruit trees. You’d think she would have taken all my scrubbing for love, and would understand that it wasn’t that I didn’t *like* her bench seats or their friendly inhabitants, I’m just pro public health.

Maybe I’m projecting, but she’s probably also worried “restore” means 60s beach kitsch, cottage kitsch, luau kitsch, 50s diner kitsch, chrome-tread-floors-and-wheel-well-flame-decal kitsch, route 66 kitsch or any other subcategory of crime against the trailer. I reassure her: no bunting. no cupcake stands. brown alcohol only, punishable by expulsion. I describe my vision of camp blanket/brass eagle/pheasant hunting chic, but it’s probably hard to picture.

The bench seats are the first project, the ones that go on either side of an adorable little table and fold down into an extra bed. They’re wood framed, with cushion stuff on the inside and all held together by covering on the outside. If you’re discouraged by my highly technical assessment, don’t be. The take-one-look-and-quote-$700 professional upholster’s assessment did amazing things for my conviction that this is something I can manage rather flawlessly all by myself.

About these ads
Category : queen minnie