THE REAL TRAILER HOUSEWIFE

Climbing Out of the Debris Field of Hate

2016-06-18T23:24:00.003-04:00

It's not been an ordinary week.

On 9/11, and the weeks that followed, most cared little about what political party a person favored...

America became ONE AMERICA.

One color. One family. One heart.

We wanted to gather everyone we loved or cared for into a safe place - and never let them go.

We became better friends, neighbors, parents, employees and citizens. Americans cared about things previously taken for granted as we healed from the internal bruising caused by a giant kick in the gut.

I prayed I would never feel that way again.

Then this past week happened ... in my proverbial back yard.

The senseless murder of an aspiring young singer.

An incomprehensible slaughter of people in a nightclub.

A toddler ripped from his parent's hands by a reptile native to our region.

My gut hurts and I am finding myself broken down again.

That hard shell I formed around myself - so nothing would shock me anymore - has been completely shattered.

I've cried like a lost child. I'm feeling like a lost soul.

I can comprehend loss, accident and tragedy; not easily but eventually.

I can't, however, comprehend violence and hate.

I'm simply unable to wrap my head around it.

I'm powering through raw emotions and sucking in screams that want to pass my lips. I'm trying to achieve a semblance of peace and calm through my faith while silently pleading with God to fix this super virus called hate.

I'm praying for safety of America's law enforcement, first responders, military and teachers...and all of you...

I'm praying that I never get a hard shell which shields me from all things evil again; to which my own continued goal of goodness, as well as everyone else's, can conquer and defeat.

xoxox

Sent from my iPhone

TAKE THIS... YOU REALITY TV HOUSEWIVES..

2012-09-19T12:19:00.000-04:00

A group of local women I know, many for some time now, get together on a regular basis. I like to think of us as a unique and beautiful collection of the female persuasion. Intelligent and passionate; our backgrounds are as varied as our number which over the years has hovered close to 30. Yes, that's right - 30.

That's a lot of beauty, intelligence and passion.

If there is a poster child of groups of women who gather together - it is this collection of ladies who call themselves CLUB MEETING.

Two words, which when appear in the subject line of our unread email lists, we are delighted, thankfully, that this will continue to bring this eclectic assembly together.

I do not profess to be any sort of leader or spokeswomen for these women.

But my life would be totally different, perhaps non-existent, if not for this group of friends. That's a pretty powerful statement to make; even more so to commit to the written word.

These gals have embraced my affection and amusement for changing my hair as well as my frightening willingness to change it by way of curling, dyeing it dark, bleaching it platinum, frosting, cutting it off and growing out what God has blessed me with. I know they speak of this behind my back but they are never shy about telling me to my face what they think.

I love my girlfriends.

Having said all this, I attribute this particular call to the keyboard to the lovely person who came up to me today and asked if I was blogging again because they saw a recent one on Facebook; I occasionally do and so....you know who you are and I am dedicating this blog to you!

In my world which includes my 'guilty' pleasure of watching ALL of those Real Housewives on Bravo TV, I just thought it would be nice to share that not all women who gather together fight and get nasty.

Some just have fun, laugh, take photos we can't publish, drink too much, talk too loud in public places, accuse bartenders of not putting any tequila in our margaritas (that is when it is never pretty), bond and enjoy our animal print obsessions (that would be me; but I AM from New Jersey!)

So here's another blog, another window into my personality disorder and another reason to be thankful for my girlfriends.

Consider this some fodder to help take your minds off of your tanking 401k's if you are fortunate to have one left
and those wars in the Middle East they all told us would be over by now.

I like to tell jokes, and be funny at times. I also live to write poetry and this blogging stuff is my excuse to write and have to type a little so I don't forget how.

Here's to my friends, old and new, welcome to real 'reality'. It's not mean-spirited and full of terrible drama.
Maybe we're just getting too damn old for drama and just happy to be healthy enough to go out and party.

That is a wonderful thing.

Peace

NEVER SAY NEVER

2012-09-11T15:17:00.001-04:00

You want to buy us a 'what' and do 'what'?????

In the early 1970’s my parents lived in the Adirondacks. Faithfully, I’d drive to see them at least once a month from Worcester, Massachusetts and more often than not, I made the trip solo. I enjoyed the almost 4 hour open road journey and the freedom of the road that guided me through the Berkshires. Each passing mile marker brought me closer to memories of childhood summers and smells of the old Victorian house that stood grandly above the clear mountain lake.

Travelling west on the Mass Pike, I sailed along the open road singing along to my favorites Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, Bob Dylan and James Taylor. My dreamy state of a humming engine and the blaring songs were all I needed until I pulled off of the Northway at the Saratoga Springs exit. Now the radio was turned off so I could simply enjoy the ride.

I looked forward to this two-lane road which would lead me straight to my folk’s driveway in Lake Luzerne, NY.

This was what I came to call the 'homestretch'.

In my mind I was almost there. My European-made car could now do what it did best – tightly embrace miles of winding asphalt as it climbed higher altitudes into fragrances of pines that awakened the senses. This was the fun part.

Sometimes, suddenly and without warning, something would happen as I tested the law enforcement of speed zones…an encounter of the WORST KIND.

Dead ahead, a slow-moving, bobbing and weaving white box on wheels would appear; as I tried to blink away the apparition before me, reality hit like a kick in the gut…

THE DREADED RECREATIONAL VEHICLE.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME??????????

My thoughts became audible, loud and anxious. "These things are a MENACE to the real owners of the road" – it got worse and went something like this:
Who the (expletive) would be insane enough to go on an (expletive) vacation in an (expletive) aluminum box!!! I was livid.

The fast time I had made on the highway was now compromised. I was doing HALF of the speed limit and the moron had his left blinker on - there was no left turn for miles.

I could do only one thing for my safety and the others on the road. I slumped in my seat, downshifted to 3rd gear and became the first in line of what was to be a Samba dance of drivers who all shared my pain.

The snake-like line of vehicles became the prisoners of MARGE AND HARRY FROM OSWEGO, NY which was airbrushed on the spare tire cover on the back of their RV.

I made a promise that evening so many years ago to myself - I swore to never, ever own one of those gawd awful things.

Never say never.

ABSENCE MAKES MY HEART GO WANDER

2012-09-06T15:26:00.002-04:00

I know I have a poor track record of consistent blogging posts but once in a while when I go to my Favorites and see my Blogger Dashboard is still there, I think maybe I should jot something down.

For some reason, this morning I was daring and opened it up. I pondered possibilities of subjects and now it's afternoon and I'm giving myself 20 minutes to write this because I have other things to do.

I woke up around 7:30 am and padded out to the coffee pot before sitting at the counter. My husband is now back to work as a professor and I sit in his favorite stool at the kitchen island. It has a great view of the river and morning traffic on the Intracoastal is soothing to witness. When he's not home is the only time I ever sit there.

We did travel to North Carolina in the RV. It was wonderful and cool and next year we will try to go for 2 whole months.

But I'm not talking about RVing today.

Anyway, as I perused this morning paper's headlines and looked over the classifieds ads of puppies for sale (no I do not need a puppy), I ended up where I always do - the obit page. My mother used to do that and it drove me nuts. I would ask 'why do you read those' and her solid answer was always to make sure she wasn't on it.

It got me to thinking and sometimes that takes me to odd places in my reality.

Now I know the process of how to submit a special notice to a newspaper - be it an engagement or wedding announcement - and sadly, more often than I care to recall, the dreaded obituary. I have submitted these various notices of information in person, online and camera ready.

NONE of those had typos or ommissions yet every single one ended up in print with typos and errors. The don't give refunds or credits for mistakes or typographical errors.

I find inaccuracies in obituaries to be the worst of the worst thing to happen when trying to publish a notice. Some errors are obvious even if you don't know the person. For example if the deceased spells his last name one way, but then the list of male survivors all have a different spelling last name, well, that is an obvious error. One can only imagine the angst the family feels when they open the paper to read the words about their dearly departed and discover his name spelled wrong. That person who had 'that job' gets the 'stink eye' aimed at them by the rest of the family - trust me on this.

When discussing the deceased, no one ever, ever, ever is entirely truthful. It's not politically correct to call anyone bad names when they can't defend themselves.

But really, does everyone die peacefully surrounded by loved ones??? It would seem so but I know that not to be true. I was with my mother when she passed and it was not peaceful because before she took her last breath I was already wailing and sobbing in my sorrow. I was scared and angry and all alone and I wailed and sobbed enough for those who weren't there. I liken it to screaming in the dentist chair with folks in the waiting room...everyone in that wing knew what had happened.

I didn't mention that on the obituary form I submitted.

I did mention however, that she enjoyed her animals and gardening.

If I wrote my own notice it would go something like this:

Patricia Lynn Knoch Doyle died after being sick and tired for a while. Mrs. Doyle - who was 90 (I'm making that up) was kicking and screaming right up to the end. Her family had just gone out to lunch when, finally, she took her last breath and went to meet her Heavenly Father. The jury is still out that she made it. She lived longer than we ever thought possible but you know what they say - only the good die young. She was not wearing a helmet at the time of her death.

Patricia had a sick sense of humor, could be witty and charming as can be; she also could cut you in half with her words and was famous for her 'silent treatment' approach to those who crossed the line. She swore like a sailor and failed miserably each Lent when she gave up cursing. Her hobbies were worrying, worrying and worrying. She was a recovering Roman Catholic and remained racked with guilt throughout her entire life.

She worked from the time she was 14 years old and in the early days of her marriage, when they were always broke, she drove several shit box cars and never complained unless they leaked.

Widely known for her frequent change of hair styles, lengths and colors, her husband preferred her blond but that never stopped her constant experimenting with various hues. Some were real doozies.

Left behind to finally enjoy some peace and quiet is her loving husband of what seemed like a hundred years and two sons (all of whom she loved dearly) as well as a couple of siblings, a few dogs and a long lost cousin on Long Island she found on Facebook...................................

Well, there's probably more I would say but I want to watch HGTV's "House Hunters" before Judge Judy comes on - Her Honor is one of my husband's favorites.

Like I said, this is just a rough death notice but you get the picture of where I'm going with these notices...

Hopefully, I'll have a long time before I have to really get it done. And I'll put money on the very real likelihood of the publication spelling my maiden name with a 'k' at the end instead of an h.

I assure you I'm not going to worry about it at all.

Peace and love.

HOW THE RV PULL-THROUGH SITE CONCEPT IS SAVING MANY MARRIAGES -PART II

2010-09-14T15:25:00.000-04:00

Holy cow! I don't know where the time goes. What I thought would be a daily 'me' time blog is turning into more of a weekly thing...life gets in the way of stuff like this. My mind spins off all the time and I have all of these ideas but I never sit my butt down at the computer to write them. I must invest in one of those recorder thingies...
Anyway, to conclude my post about backing up a fifth wheel trailer - and it's challenges on the spouses involved - has posed somewhat of a dilemma to me.
It goes without saying that I don't want to portray hubby as an inept backer-upper.
Therefore, I say without hesitation that I've seen some really scary back-up moments over the years. Some of them occurred on the site we had reserved but more than a few have been observed on adjacent sites.
We had to come up with a plan for avoiding audiences...we get on the road early and we get off the road early. This is crucial to timing the backing up of the 5th wheel with as few people around as possible. It's easier to blurt out obscenities at each other when there is no one within earshot. Even with the back up camera hubby has a tough time of things. Overhead limbs appear out of nowhere and some sites are exceptionally narrow...I'll concede to that fact. We stayed at a campground near the Jersey Shore once that I'm sure half of the occupants, after their stint in this location, ended up hidden somewhere in the Pine Barrens never to be seen again. Oddly enough, that was the summer we chose to bring along the HBO series 'The Sopranos'.
Anyway, God Bless the person who came up with the concept of the Pull-through. It's made arriving to one's destination of the day to be a much more pleasant experience. Cocktail hour becomes more of a civil occasion rather than grabbing that bottle of rum and swigging a few chugs just to get your nervous system back to normal.
And that's all I have to say of backing up a 5th wheel trailer since I'm not the driver and I don't want it to get around that hubby would drive 50 miles out of his way in order to avoid backing up...after all, I've really started liking this travelling thing we do each summer and I don't want him looking for a replacement navigator.

HOW THE RV PULL-THROUGH SITE CONCEPT IS SAVING MANY MARRIAGES -PART I

2010-09-01T15:52:00.000-04:00

Since I was taught to drive by my father in 1969, I’ve never been a good backer upper.

I do much better now that I don’t listen to the radio.
And I don't want you to think I'm constantly backing into things - but I will admit I have a couple of tales that are real doozies.

Understand too, that today I parallel parked perfectly in front of the Post Office on a local avenue.

My first experience of not 'noticing what was behind me' was when I was 17 and my brother came home from serving in the Army with a brand new Italian sports car.

It was a pretty red color with a black convertable top. Even cooler was when there was one in the movie 'The Graduate."

My favorite brother drove it all over Europe and shipped it back to the great state of New Jersey after serving in the Army. I should also mention that it was damaged during shipping and so he waited even longer because it went from the ship right to a body shop.
I felt bad for him. I mean, the poor guy gets home, his car is wrecked in transit – and all he wanted was to get out of the service and drive that thing and start his life after the military.

This is where I come in.

One minute my mother is handing me the keys to her huge Buick station wagon to go get a gallon of milk and the next minute I’m looking in the rear view mirror at a cloud of dust.

I put the car in park and then saw, through the dust, a hint of red.

Yes, you're correct -I had literally backed out of the garage not 'noticing' the car parked on the gravel drive, proceeded to t-bone it with the rear end of my dad’s car!
It was a classic - I not only backed into - but pushed about 25 feet -my wonderful brother’s brand new Alfa Romeo Spider Veloce convertible.

It was not one of my finer driving experiences.

Note also, the parked station wagon's radio was so loud it was deafening.

Immediately I jumped out screaming that crazy hysterical Jersey Girl scream and my brother – well, he comes running out of the house, shaving cream on half his face with one of those old fashioned razor’s in his hand.

The vision of him in his robe, white undershirt and boxer shorts is burned in my memory.

He looked at the car, then me and his head dropped forward so that when he raised it again, there was shaving cream on his chest of his v neck undershirt where his chin had hit.

"Son of a Bitch".

That’s all he said as he turned around and went back inside.

I was still hysterical…and my mother was furious!

I never did go get that gallon of milk.

Backing up is really important when you own an RV, Trailer, Fifth Wheel or anything for that matter.

We have the fifth-wheel but even the name confuses me.
It only has 4 wheels. The truck has 4 wheels. Fifth Wheel????

Anyway, backing up isn't real popular with my husband, but only when he's pulling the trailer. Otherwise, he's the best backer upper going as well as pretty perfect going forward. He is also left handed. Not that there is anything wrong with that but I think it has something to do with why he has problems backing up the trailer. It must be that 'fifth wheel' thingie.

I have to be really, really careful with this story line.
So this is the part one blog of ‘How the RV Pull-Through Concept of RV Sites Is Saving Many Marriages.’

Happy trails till next time.

I'VE BEEN EVERYWHERE MAN....

2010-08-28T07:30:00.004-04:00

Good Morning,

For some reason, that little ditty by the late, great Johnny Cash has been spinning in my head. I don't know why my brain does that but it's okay because I usually like the song I can't get rid of.

Overall, it's been a good week - if you have not watched the news.

On the bright side, there are some good things to note: like those miners who are still alive, and the Yankee Team members who took that blind lady to a Yankees ballgame and let her touch their faces. There are thousands of good things that happened but they don't make the networks at night. It's too bad because I would watch a show like that.

We all know babies were born this week, neighbors helped each other, kids learned some new stuff as they've started back to school and someone somewhere adopted a puppy.

There's so much good stuff out there - but you have to really look to find it.

That's where I come in!

I'm determined to make this site for good news only. At the very least if I speak of a serious subject, I will put my odd sense of humor to it and lesson the drama. Even the bad news is gonna be good! I know it's possible and it will happen and I will stay focused!

I'll be telling stories from past experiences as during this time of year the trailer is sitting on it's cement pad out next to the garage, which obviously means we are not in travel mode. That can be a good thing. For most of us, and I took an unofficial survey on the road this summer - trailer and camping folks all work for a living. Some actually are retired and to that I say 'good for you'.

We're just thankful my husband has has a job. We are blessed during these times that our household has a real income because so many are really hurting out there.

I don't want to get into politickin' (they say that everywhere and I hope I spelled it correctly...but, and that's a BIG BUT- those folks in our Nation's Capitol are obviously not RVers. We know that because we see them on the televosopm when they campaign in those fancy, schmancy buses - but that is the closest they get to camping and even then they probably don't sleep in them!

My point today is, well really, I don't have a point. This next statement is why:

When I signed on today I had this advertisement appear on my email page about 'If you owe more than $729,000K on your mortgage the government will help you refinance your home at 3 point somethin' percent'. What the Heck!!!!

It just doesn't make sense to me.

Peace and love,

BLOGGING CAN BE A LONELY JOB

2010-08-25T15:01:00.001-04:00

Good Day to You,

I have not lost my enthusiasm for this blog; I am, however learning more and more of how little I know about this stuff.

I still don't know why some of you are saying you wrote comments but they did not show up.

Beats me.

All I know is that when I checked my blog last night it started with a warning about ADULT CONTENT-HIT YES TO PROCEED....I don't know why that suddenly appeared but I found out how to get rid of it.

When I first started doing this, my adult child simply 'rolled his eyes' and said something that was not unkind - but I didn't consider it an endorsement either.

Hubby probably didn't quite grab the concept at first; actually he is like me. I don't typically read blogs.

I knew that Brian Williams had a blog because he says so at the end of the NBC Nightly News sometimes.

Which reminds me, I need to look him up to see what he has to say. I want to let him know that he really wears some awesome ties too.

Truthfully, I had never read a blog until I wrote one.

Well, wait, that's sorta a white lie because I did click on BRAVO TV's homepage and saw Blogs in the list of stuff they have. I clicked on 'Bethanny' or 'Theresa' and there were lots of comments so it is possible to leave one.

I want my readers to be mindful of the fact that I have 'self imposed rules'. If you know me in any way, you will know that it is good for me to have rules. Since kindergarten I have had to be told to calm down. I don't consider it a fault but it is something I deal with daily. My brain is like a car that is parked in the driveway, the ignition is in park and the motor is running - unfortunately, the gas pedal is stuck to the floor. That is the only way I can explain how my brain works. I'm not normal.

I'm glad I got that off my chest.

Anyway, as far as those rules I'm talking about: there will be no swearing; and this is huge for me because I have been known to have a tendency to use words I should not.

Also I will never name real names (except for my dedication)...partly because I don't want to get sued for any reason and mostly because since I can't remember simple things like where I put my keys or where I parked my car at Publix puts me at risk of not giving credit to the right person for saying or doing something I feel worthy of note.

I abide by the rule 'to be anonymous is to be content'.....so if you decide to 'Follow' me - you're safe. I'm cool with that.

The identity of your camping/travel/life stories and antics -as well as mine- will remain a mystery to those reading this. Of course, that goes out the window if you live in the same small town as I do. But even then, we're all pretty laid back so no worries. It's not like Oprah's people will call me up to do a segment on trailer life or camping with 4 dogs and hubby.

I will close today by saying that I'm not going to stop Blogging because no one is 'Following' me or posting comments.

Greatness takes time and after all, I have to pay my dues.

Happy trails till we meet again....

Peace,
Patty Cakes

THERE REALLY IS A BUDDY WORLD

2010-08-23T15:29:00.000-04:00

There is a 'Buddy World' in Trailerdise.................

If you are onboard with the phrase ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ then I can truly say with authority that ‘camping (or rv-ing) creates a world of buddies’. Now for all you college professors out there, www.dictionary.com defines a buddy as follows:

bud•dy
ˈbʌd iShow Spelled [buhd-ee] Show IPA noun,plural-dies, verb,-died, -dy•ing. Informal.
–noun
1. comrade or chum (often used as a term of address).
2. bud
–verb (used without object)
3. to be a companion; be friendly or on intimate terms.
—Verb phrases
4. buddy up,
and so on…(there’s more but you get my point)
_______________________________________
Origin: 1840–50, Americanism; perh. reduced form of brother

My point here is that there is an entire “Buddy World” out there - folks just like you and me who have met really, really special people in our travels and at campgrounds, state parks and such. It is simply astonishing how friendly campers and travelers in the U.S.A. can be. I can’t speak for the rest of the world because I haven’t been there yet.

Now face it, there are some nasty ones too, but in that case they are not a buddy.

It’s that simple.

Like I said in an earlier posting, camping is all about back to basics – the way life used to be - you know, when you walked up to people and just started talking.

It warms the heart to know there is a “Buddy World” out there. These are folks that will ask you what part of New Jersey you’re from because they see your tag says “Garden State”. All of a sudden, there you go – you have a new buddy!!!

Now stay with me here, I’m almost done … in the interest of privacy and all that is legal, know that from this point forward, all of you campers who meet other campers are all part of “Buddy World”! It won’t get you towed to the nearest tire center but being a buddy is just about the best thing about camping and traveling.

Some buddies will become really good friends. When all is said and done friends are a very good thing.

So here’s to being a buddy and why I like camping so much.

Happy Trails till we meet again.

Dedication

2010-08-20T11:59:00.001-04:00

Hello

First I'll let you know, if you haven't figured out already, that I'm new to this whole blog thing. Actually, I am pretty inept at anything that is terribly technical.

Call me old school. Truthfully I'm just one of millions of baby boomers born in the late 40's or early 50's, that for whatever reason, didn't get beyond the email phase of all the Internet offers. I will admit though 'Googleing" and looking at Google Earth is really, really, wicked cool .

I'm being told that some of you are unable to post comments on my blog. I'm going to have to look that up. Unlike some "Real Housewives" I do not have a personal assistant. I promised hubby I would spend no more than 1 hour per day on this. I have other things to do to keep this household running smoothly like every other woman on the planet.

Having said all this, I was thinking yesterday of my previous post with the little reading about camping. That particular little recipe booklet was dedicated to a person named "Edith" and it got me to thinking....

I am dedicating this blog to every friend I've ever had, and I do not use that term lightly.

I would however, like to give top billing of this dedication to one of my oldest and dearest friends -Carolyn. Since the early 70's when we met while working for a major insurance company until today, Carolyn remains my true mentor and friend.

God comes first, then my husband, children and family - then Carolyn. Her guidance, wisdom and presence in my life has given me immeasurable gifts.

I tell her to this day how blessed I am to have her in my life - she is still doing well even though she's approaching octagenarianism soon. I don't know if that's even a word. She excells at golf, carries herself like a lady and is the type of gal who, when walking into a room, would turn heads no matter what the gender. If you've ever heard the term 'aura', well Carolyn has a big one.

So here's to you Carolyn, this whole blog, however long it lasts, is for you. You told me to write and that is what I will do. From the bottom of my heart dear lady, you have brought me through both pleasant and unpleasant times in my life's journey with your gentle way-I remain forever grateful. I have learned from you that no matter what life throw's at you, it can be handled with dignity and grace. God Bless you,

To the rest of you who are tuning in, thank you for giving me some space to do this dedication today. I'll soon follow with more trailer/travel/life/antics of on the road or off 'wisdom' - on Monday.

I'm taking the week-end off because I can.

Stay safe and remember to look up at the clouds and the stars - we just don't do that enough.

Peace and Love,

I WISH I HAD WRITTEN THAT

2010-08-18T19:47:00.002-04:00

I'm going to share a writing that I found wandering around a camp store in Maine.

It always amazes me at the things these little stores keep in their stock...some are better than others but for the most part, if you're RVing, sometimes the closest thing you'll find to a mall is the campground's store.

You will find the darndest things that are local to the area which is always fun. Lord knows every trailer needs a set of hand carved salt and pepper shakers that look like little Adirondack chairs.

Now I have to say, I'm not known for my shopping skills, but just getting a bit of distance between me and the husband after a long day on the road can be a good thing. (Especially if it's not a pull - through site..)

We will discuss my husband's back up skills another day :).

Please note again that I did not write this but it appeared in one of those locally done recipe booklets.

The little publication was just full of great stuff and dedicated to a woman named Edith Morey. She was one of the original founders of this campground in Maine we found by accident. God Bless Edith wherever she is. Here it is as it appears in the booklet, with no title:

Camping is more than just getting away.

It's a clear blue sky,

the song of a bird,

the beckoning woods,

the wide open spaces.

Camping is greeting the breath of dawn

unhindered by the walls of city life

and watching the sun set in ribbons of color

as it says "good night" to a perfect day.

Camping makes hearts grow lighter

and food taste better.

It's sharing stories around a Campfire

and gazing up in silence

at a star-filled sky.

Camping is more than just getting away.

It's the thing we need to rekindle

the spirit of a simpler time,

refresh our hearts with nature's beauty

and remind us that life

doesn't need to be

quite so complicated

after all.

Here's to safe travels and blue skies...wherever it is you're calling home this day.

Peace

( if any of you with a computer wishes to research the poems origin, please feel free and tell us who wrote this lovely ditty...credit should be given where credit is due. )

A DAY IN TRAILERDISE

2010-08-17T08:21:00.002-04:00

Hello there,

It's going to be another hot one so I'm hanging inside doing things around the house. The house without the wheels.

For the record and to avoid confusion in my blogs, I'll refer to two houses - the house we live in most of the time - and the RV 5th wheel trailer.

If you own a trailer, no matter how modest, it's a house on wheels.

RV, motorcoach, class A, class C, 20 ft., 40 ft....it doesn't matter....it's a trailer and it doesn't mean you're trash.
Some of my RV friends object when I call it a trailer because technically speaking, it is a Fifth Wheel with 1 slide-out. At least that's the type of trailer we have now.....

But let me explain how this real working/housewife - born in the Bronx and raised in New Jersey
- came to be The Real Trailer Housewife.

Here's the story...

We have had a trailer since the Spring of 2005. Having 3 back to back hurricanes in 2004, my husband and I decided we needed a plan in case we ever had to leave our house. Being dog owners and not wanting to impose on anyone in the event of a major storm, we decided a trailer was the way to go...

Really, if you went through what we have, living on a barrier island on Florida's east coast, and you watch TV after a huge hurricane (who picks those people to talk on tv????), you pretty much get it that you MUST have a plan...

So we started perusing the papers and the internet, as well as many issues of RV Trader and we bought our first trailer!!!

It was a Class C vision of mauve and aqua with a tiny little toilet/shower (yes, it was all in the same space).

Supposedly it slept 8-10 but no one in their right mind would do that! It was a gem. The manufacturer named it 'Seven Seas' but by the time we finished our first trip I dubbed it the 'Seven Sleaze'...that should tell you something of our first mis-adventure...

Gosh, time sure flies on this computer and my back tells me if I sit too long, so you're going to have to hear the rest of the story another day.

I'm going to sign off now but I hope you are all having a travelling good time...wherever you are calling home today.

Safe travels to you.