We got this little beauty last night.
Our neighbor and friend Julie told us about this teardrop that had been handmade by an artist friend of hers that had recently passed away. His daughter was working through the estate and the guy who had first dibs missed the deadline on it and hey! Would we like it?
He went to check it out first.
I felt like this would be like taking me to the pound and saying, pick the one animal that really works best for your life.
Whatever. I want them all.
Still, trying to not get our hopes up, I made no promises about any of it.
It might not be our teardrop trailer.
So he went to check it out and be all engineer-y about it. Waterproof? Design? Structurally sound? Safe?
Check to all of the above.
What about the inside? Will we both fit comfortably?
Most importantly…is it going to feel like a coffin?
It might not be our teardrop trailer…
It passed all of his initial inspections and when the first dibs guy didn’t make contact by the deadline I got the text…”it’s ours if we want it.”
So I drove down, and walking up to it I thought…”no way in hell we are fitting into that and I’m not clawing my way out ala Buffy”
But we got in. And closed the doors. And we fit. It was deceptively roomy.
And we looked at each other and smiled.
This is our teardrop trailer.
Neither one of us has a hitch on our suvs, once again Julie came to our rescue and with a little luck and a whole lotta Mark-power, it is now in our driveway in Norman. (well today he manhandled it into the garage due to the storms)
The back is going to be redesigned, and the interior is going to get super cozy and cute. There are many adventures and music festivals and fun times in our future.
This lil trailer will be a witness to all of it.
She doesn’t have a name yet. . . officially.
But I’ve been calling her Lucy in my head.