Casita craigslist

Chopped, 'shopped

craigslist, that one-stop, “if you can’t find it here, it’s gotta be over there!”, online marketplace is usually my last stop before hitting the hay each night. I have several fave keywords I check obsessively, i.e., planters, plants, succulents, concrete, yard art, rusted, rustic, river rocks, bizarre, just to make sure that there isn’t something out there I’m missing out on … I’ve found some of my best pieces this way; remember this recent treasure? Lately I’ve added a new keyword to the list: trailer. See, for the longest time we and friends have posited the idea of placing a trailer somewhere on the Rancho to serve as guest quarters, outdoor room, contemplation spot, whatever … and, we’ve had our sights on various caravane résidentielle, including chrome-shiny classic Airstreams; fully tricked-out, built from the ground up, vintage teardrops; even ’70s Brady Bunch-era Kleenex box lookalikes. Pictured, above, is our latest find: a cute little bit of rounded-edge Americana I found on the ‘list Friday night. I loved the ad for it; the header asking the provocative question: “VINTAGE TRAILER YARD ART?”. Checking out the full ad, which included pics of the flower’n’flag festooned caravan, I loved how the owner suggested that it could serve as a playhouse, garden shed or yard art. She also mentioned that she’d painted its exterior herself, and I loved that detail, too. Also: good price, $400 obo … do I really need to mention that I called on it immediately? I had to see this thing in person! After a couple of calls I got ahold of the owner and set up a time early Saturday morning to see it … We’d need to get a cooler, early-in-the-day start, since the trailer was in the high desert’s Apple Valley, and it was sure to be hot, hot, hot!

Festooned front, back

After traveling about an hour we found the seller’s home, where the trailer was quite in evidence from the street. Exiting the Element’s cool interior we were hit by the heat and met the seller, Leighanne. She was friendly and personable and allowed us to have a look around while regaling us with stories about the trailer’s 8-year life with her and her family. I really liked it; the trailer’s exterior looked exactly like the photos online, and the interior was spacious, having been stripped down to its bare essentials (Leighanne mentioned that she still had its original stove). I took photos, Paul took measurements and we were told that although the trailer lacked wheels, it could be taken away on a flatbed trailer. Interesting; lots to consider. We thanked Leighanne and returned to Riverside. After lunch, I took the measurements and compared them against the space I had for the trailer behind our concrete core’s bench/wall. It would be tight; too tight maybe. Then I called my sister Julie to ask the dimensions of her husband José’s flatbed trailer; too small, just. I looked again at the space and wondered how we’d be able to move the trailer up onto the ridge, without a crane, and without hurting ourselves and the surrounding plants; we couldn’t, too steep, too tight and too dangerous. Although I loved the trailer, it wasn’t going to take a place of honor at the Rancho; there were just too many obstacles to overcome.

Still, I had to see how it would look if everything worked out, and that’s the photoshopped pictured at the beginning of this post. In it the trailer sits perfectly behind the core bench/wall, which now features an opening to the trailer’s front door … some of Leighanne’s current yard art still providing fitting decor. Do I feel bad that the trailer didn’t work out? Not really, it happens sometimes … I’m actually glad we went to Apple Valley, home in life — death, too — of Roy and Dale Evans, since I’d never been before … Leighanne was one of the nicest people you’d ever want to meet; not to mention a master of spray-can flower painting, and I wish we could have taken the trailer off her hands. Our trailer search will continue, and someday, some thing, will present itself. It will fit perfectly in place, look awesomely witty and Rancho-appropriate, and on a blustery rainy day I’ll sit inside its enclosing space with a glass of wine and watch the lightning in the distance beyond the cemetery.