Picture wavy lines, because it's a flashback.

In my last entry, I mentioned that I'm waiting with baited breath to move into the house; however, I don't believe I give an adequate picture as to why.  So welcome to a flashback sequence.

When we got engaged, Chris started hunting out places for us to live.  His mom and dad were gracious enough to provide us land, but we needed to provide some sort of structure to put on said land.  After several weeks (and many unrealistic discussions about buying a new double-wide), he discovered our trailer.

He took me to see it; we toured the thing in it's entirety.  He asked me what I thought.

"It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen," I responded (a direct quote, Ladies and Gentlemen!).

With that response in mind, Chris decided to go ahead and buy the place.

We did a lot of work, and it's been a good, little house for over 7 years.  Keep in mind that this trailer had more than 20 years on it when we bought it...so the fact that it's held up this long is probably a victory.  But now, we're starting to deal with eventualities that all trailer owners understand.

So why is it I'm so ready to move out, you ask?

Here's the first part.  This is a wall in the living room of my trailer.  While we don't really have problems with the roof leaking (in most areas), we do have a small problem with the water seeping in through the walls.

That's not a faux paint job, folks.  And to spare the weak stomachs, I didn't take a picture of the carpet below this wall.  You can do the math, though:  constantly damp carpet=mold, mildew, etc.

There was also a time, much to our chagrin, that we busted a water line.  For more than 3 months, water was pumping underneath one of the rooms (not in large amounts...we didn't notice a large change in the bill).  That left us with rotted wood, saggy carpet and places you can't walk in certain rooms of the house.

Then, there was the small problem on January 1, 2008.


After ringing in the New Year with Chris' family, we came home to find that part of our roof had taken up residence in the field behind the trailer.  We began the long process of repairing the roof of a more than 25 year old trailer.  Not the easiest of tasks.

But before we could manage to get the thing fixed completely, we suffered a bit of water damage--hence the saggy ceiling in my hallway.  It currently doesn't leak--which is good since we won't be moving into the house until December or so.

It's impossible for me to show you the saggy floor, the doors that won't shut and the nooks and crannies that allow our pet mice to come in and out of the abode at will.

And yet it's been a home.  While we've cried here, and laughed here and built the majority of our married life here, I really will not be sentimental when I set the thing on fire.  Sorry if that sounds hateful.  Actually, I'm not sorry.  Not at all.

___________________And now it's time for a breakdown_____________________
Shout-out to En Vogue for the line that allows me to switch subjects.

I also thought you might enjoy seeing our family get-together, and Gloria's ancient air popper (for popcorn).

Since I read too much, I'm constantly sharing my new-found knowledge with my loved ones.  My recent discovery?  A toxicologist will not eat microwave popcorn due to all of the chemicals that go in the bag.  Scary.

So, in the name of keeping us healthy and keeping an evening treat in the rotation, Gloria (my aunt...not her real name), reintroduced the air popper to her countertop.  I'd say this model is mid to late 80s.

The towel was to keep the popcorn from popping out of the bowl.

The measuring cup on top (with the melting butter in it) was used because there used to be a lid, but it has long since flown the coop.

It's just proof you can take the girl out of the trailer, but you can't take the trailer out of the girl.

And that terrifies me.