A Baby Boomer's musings on art, family history, reading and finding a little beauty each day.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Living in a Motor Coach
I'm still working on my autobiographical coloring book. Drawing this little scene reawakened several memories for me. First off was the oversized zip up snowsuit, mittens (probably with a piece of yarn connecting them through the arms of the snowsuit), and thin rubber boots that folded inward and were fastened with what looked like a big rubber band and a button. Those boots did not keep my feet warm. When I walked, the shiny fabric of the snowsuit made a sound like ZWOOP, ZWOOP, ZWOOP.
The other memory was of the trailer we lived in until my younger sister was born. I have only vague memories of the trailer, and just a handful of photos. I asked my aunt, my mother's older sister, if the trailer had a bathroom, but she did not remember. I was too young to need any plumbing, so I do not recall. I do remember that when my grandparents build a new house, and we moved into the farm house, they installed indoor plumbing, and the wooden outhouse became a relic of the past. I believe my parents moved into the trailer right after they were married in 1948. I came along at the end of 1950.
I did an internet search to see if I could find out more about the first place we lived. I think lots of people lived in trailers after World War II; they weren't just for hauling behind your automobile. I think I scored with the Atlas Mobile Home Directory site. Our trailer had a nice streamlined shape, with a curved top, two doors with porthole windows. This could be it:
I know the interior had what looked like wood paneling, linoleum floors, and lots of built in shelving and drawers. It was compact at 28 feet in length, and probably about 8 feet in width. At any rate, it was too small once my sister was born, and we moved into the drafty old stucco farmhouse that was my home until I went away to college.
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