Gracie Rides Again is winterized and buttoned up for the season (minus the access panel we usually have rolled up so that we can still get inside) and she can’t really go anywhere right now, but I have camping on the brain.
In 2009, for a very brief amount of time, we were the proud owners of a vintage camper. She was a 1974 New Paris Traveler, 16 feet long, and she was a mess. Continue reading “Gracie Rides Again!”
As Jack Dawson described Rose DeWitt-Bukater, I, too, am an “indoor girl.” Historically, if I had to choose an outdoor activity versus an indoor one, especially in the heat of summer, I would always choose the activity that let me sit in the air conditioning and avoid mosquito bites.
I vividly remember our brief, brief foray into camping a few years ago. We were living in our little rental house in Acton, Indiana and we suddenly (and inexplicably, now that I think about it) decided that we were “camping people,” so we went out and bought all the stuff, and I mean all the stuff. Tent. Sleeping bags. Lanterns. Matches. Bug zappers. Bug spray. Bug netting. Collapsible camp table. Everything we could possibly need for a night of tent sleeping in our own backyard.
In the past 48 hours, I’ve descended into Airstream madness. (When I want something, I really want it.) Simply put, I want a 1957 Airstream Bubble.
Here is the outside of one (all photos are not mine):
And after asking Lord Google to see images of the inside of restored Airstreams, I found this article with photos that show exxxxactly how I would want the inside of mine to look (minus that particular guy on the bed, that is):