Part I - Why This Project? Why Now?

Tell me I can't do something?  Yeh, that's a sure way for me to thumb my nose and prove you wrong.

It has been suggested that I should focus on my health, rather than take on a potentially major restoration of a half-century old trailer.  Especially when I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.

Why? 

But the question should be, "Why not?"

Just because I have this pesky Stage IV Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma cancer thing as a permanent houseguest in my bod doesn't mean that I can't or shouldn't try to accomplish things I want to do.  I feel GREAT (it was discovered purely by accident); it's a slow-growing type of blood cancer; I currently have no symptoms; and my oncologist and I have chosen a "watch-and-wait" approach:  we monitor my health via regular CT scans and bloodwork and will wait until symptoms begin to develop before starting treatment.  An added bonus to watch-and-wait:  this interval allows additional time for better and more effective treatments to become available.

(To read more about this annoying cancer thing, visit my other blog:
www.lymphopixie.blogspot.com)

So life goes on.  I work; lavish obsessive amounts of love on my two Rottweilers, Jake and Piper; take care of my house; camp in my little A-frame pop-up; and ALWAYS have a project (or two) on the burners.

I recently completed a makeover of my A-frame, "Stella," glamping her out in quilts and paisleys and shades of rich saffron and juicy tangerine. 

Pillows made from checkered Ikea dishcloths
and curtain scraps.



Stella's galley.

A cozy nest.
 

Combine a passion for color, pattern, and decorating with a love of glamping and old trailers, and a vintage rig re-do was the natural evolution.

Do I know what I'm doing?  Not a clue. 

But what I DO know is that life's too short not to try.  Right?