March, known for her flirty moments of sunshine and birdsong one day, and then the threat of snow and ice the next. This morning I needed to slip on my winter coat and boots before going outdoors, as Mother Nature was quite happy to send a little sleet and dense fog my direction. Oh well, no matter; off with the coat and boots, it’s time for a cup of tea…the simple things of life, indeed.
Today my mind is not on the threat of frosty weather, but on the promise that’s in the air: the promise of violets & daffodils, pink apple blossoms, and the earthy-scent of freshly-plowed fields. I’ve heard it said that finding promise in simple pleasures is available for anyone willing to look for it…I whole heartedly agree.
This month I’d like to share a story…one that couldn’t have turned out more perfectly if I’d tried to write it myself. It’s the story of Maizy. Oh no, not me. You see, Maizy is what my grandmother used to call me, and so the name has always been close to my heart. However; this is the story of another Maizy, a 1963 Yellowstone camper, and how she came to call the farm home.
I’ll start at the beginning…several years ago, I found myself wandering through one of my favorite shops, a great small-town spot that was a “must” anytime I was passing nearby. It was filled to the brim with everything vintage, primitive, antique, and retro, and it was nothing short of wonderful.
Hanging on one of the walls I saw this hand-lettered beauty…
Something about it caught my eye…the lovely shade of turquoise-blue, the talent behind the lettering, the message. Yes…so true, NEVER stop making wishes.
As much as it called to me, it really didn’t “fit” into my style. Built in 1864, I’ve tried to fill the farmhouse with things that have a sense of history…old trunks, cupboards with wavy glass, yellow-ware bowls, handmade quilts…you get the idea. As sweet as this sign was, it just wasn’t right.
After wandering through the store, I finally resigned myself to one fact: “It NEEDS a home.” You see where this is going…yep, it did come home with me. I wrapped it safely in paper and tucked it away. Not sure what to do with it, but knowing it just had to be a little gift to me, from me – a reminder to keep dreaming.
Which, by the way, leads me to this…no matter what, NEVER stop making wishes. Some days I just have to pinch myself – I’m so lucky as I get to know all of you wonderful farmgirls right here every month. It seems as if we’ve always been friends, just visiting over the backyard fence, chatting away.
Now, back to those wishes…remember; just because you’re living in an apartment or urban high-rise now, doesn’t mean you won’t be gathering eggs from your own happy hens in the country one day. And climbing the corporate ladder can turn into climbing a tree-house ladder. Dreams come true every day.
For me, this book is what started it all. When my daughter was still a teenager she absolutely had to have it, and soon the chase for a vintage camper was on!
What? You haven’t read this yet? Then stop right now and click here.
Go…
Shoo…
Look at it!
My daughter was thinking how terrific it would be for sleepovers with her friends…what wonderful memories would be made during high school. Me? I would be happy on family adventures while the kids were still home…I felt the time was short. I kept searching the newspaper and scouring online auctions. Nothing was right, or nearby, or simply nothing existed at all. Vintage campers and glamping had taken off like wildfire, and so the search continued for two years.
I kept my eyes open wherever I went…there had to be something. On one drive into town, I passed an adorable yellow Shasta parked in a backyard. I stopped and asked the owner where she found such a beauty.
Do you know what she told me?
Are you sitting down?
About 3 hours south of us, she discovered it in a field…being used for storage!
The owner sold it to her for $100! EVERYTHING WORKED PERFECTLY.
Gulp…
Do you see my face?
Do you see me shaking my head in disbelief?
Do you see my mouth open in sheer amazement?
Before I made my way back to the car in a fog, I gave her my name and number, just in case she wanted to part with it someday. (But truly, would you? I think not.)
Sigh…
Another day I spotted a Shasta for sale sitting at the end of a long driveway on the edge of town. I drove by several times just pondering. Maybe? Maybe not? Okay, definitely! I peeked inside…no evidence of leaks, and yes, it had potential!
Lesson learned…do not ponder too long. By the time I decided to show it to friends who had revamped a camper of their own (I wanted their advice), it was gone. For months I found myself still looking longingly at the spot where it had sat…as if I could turn back time and it would still be there.
Maybe as a sign the tide was about to turn, I found this birdhouse for sale at a little corner store…about the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Soon it was welcoming birds to our backyard. A couple of weeks later, I sat down to catch up on a friend’s blog…I’d followed the progress on her 1963 Yellowstone camper for about 5 years. Freshly painted, with cheery red fabric stitched into curtains, comfy seating, and lots of playful touches, it was amazing to look at the before and after snapshots. She and her husband had worked hard to spruce up their camper and soon it was out on the road for adventures.
Then, while reading her blog, I blinked, when I read:
“I have decided to let our little trailer find a new home.”
No pondering this time…I immediately commented, and then, just in case she didn’t have time to check her blog, I sent an email. I knew that the camper was well cared for and only about 15 minutes away. Before I knew it, I was looking it over, and brought along a friend of a friend who knew all the ins-and-outs of vintage campers. He suggested a rubber roof and a quick fix on the water line.
And you know what? Before long that that sweet little 13 foot 1963 Yellowstone Cab-over camper was sitting in my driveway. The first thing I did was unwrap and find the ideal spot inside to hang the sign telling me to “Never Stop Making Wishes.” While the turquoise blue wasn’t right for an 1864 home, it was perfect for a camper I named Maizy. I began to gussy her up with turquoise, cherry red and a bit of lightning-bug yellow and putting my own retro spin on her. And you know, for someone who loves antiques and primitives, who knew I had a surprising amount of vintage goodies tucked away just waiting for someday?
I still laugh every time I read her owners manual that says she “will sleep 4-8 comfortably.” At 13 feet long, 6’6″ wide and 6’3″ tall, really, 4-8 comfortably? Even 4 is a a bit of a stretch (okay, more than a bit.)
I’m just saying, in my mind, she’s a 2-person camper. Maybe if there are littles to tuck into one of the beds or the crow’s nest, but honestly, nope…she’s a 2-person gal. We did squeeze my 5’8″ daughter in the crow’s nest and my 6’3″ son on the larger bed and it was, um, well, “cozy” might be the best word.
So how about a little tour?
Here she is just as my friend found her…before any changes:
And here she is after my friend began adding her touches:
Once my little dream was parked in the gravel driveway, I just couldn’t resist giving her my own retro spin. While my friends had done all the hard work, I was left with the best part!
Here are my touches…
At a local feed store I found a pretty red picnic basket and filled it with mini games the kids had collected over the years…just right for a pint-size camper!
And here is the first-ever mother/daughter camp-out:
I’m so very fortunate to have been in the right place, at the right time, and to be able to bring Maizy home. She absolutely makes my heart happy.
But, do you know what I remember most?
See that glowing window?
It was 2019 and inside the camper with me was my daughter, just hanging out, catching up on the day, making plans for the week.
And beyond.
“Don’t be afraid of the space between your dreams and reality.
If you can dream it, you can make it so.”
-Belva Davis
Dream your dreams. Make those wishes.
Not hesitant.
Not “maybe.”
Not half-in.
ALL IN.
We’ll cheer each other on!
Until next month, with more “tails” from the farm.
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