Y'all. When I pulled into the parking spot I was so exhausted and happy. I did it! I drove a 1970's Airstream I had just purchased home!
I look stunningly similar to a half drowned person, here. Forgive the hair. I'd been rained and hailed on for days.
We had to remove a weed tree and a few branches, and a fence to get her into her spot. But you can't park an 33 foot RV on the public streets some law or something says.
Now the real work begins.
I clean her, I scrubbed and scrubbed. I contemplated becoming a stock holder in those white scrubbie pads and heavy duty paint primer. I removing hundreds of pounds of linoleum, dirt, and 1970's beaver board. Hundreds of pounds. I spackled holes and took out plumbing.
There are three layers of of super duper duper primer and three or four layers of super duper nice paint. I had to replace the caulking in a couple of windows and the vents in the roof, I filled holes where the wiring was coming out in random spots, I chipped off linoleum, I'm not kidding when I say I used the built up rage from years of being mansplained to to get the linoleum off the plywood floors.
BUT I HAD STARTED!
I gotta be honest and tell you the floors aren't done yet. Soon, my darlings, soon they will be.
