"Don't worry if anything falls off the wall," I warned house-guest Robin in advance.
That's one of the troubles with living in an RV: the walls aren't exactly SOLID. But they are PAINTABLE, so welcome to my Corona Project, I'm still debating the name. I always intended on painting it ala Hobbiton but didn't have the nerve to begin on the outside. So I began on the inside.
This post's primarily bragging photos, and when I get around to it I'll post detailed instructions on another of my blogs, Starving Artist TNT. Not much there besides good intentions, but you're welcome to take a peek anyway.
I wanted a teardrop that was fairy empty of cabinetry, lightweight and within my very-limited budget. If you look online you'll see all sorts of darling teardrops full of clever woodworking and space-saving appliances and trust me, I drooled over plenty of photos. They're also at a premium because they can be towed by most anything and the country's in a traveling state of mind.
The main reason for my purchase was to retrieve my things from storage in New Jersey, and rather than rent a one-way U-Haul for the trip home, I hoped to find something which could serve double-duty as a get-about to continue my Travels with Buttercup.
I found it last May and I've been working on it, weather permitting, ever since: 4-feet by 6-feet and 400 pounds (but not anymore). One of the great things about my little treasure is the size of the two doors, as you can see. Teardrops are often shorter and you must crawl into them like caves; but not mine. As a matter of fact, I need a step-stool to get in, and one of the first things I acquired was folding stairs for BC.
As you look at these photos keep the following in mind: I need everything to be removed, for when I retrieve my things. So as much as it would be nice to have cabinets for clothes and dishes, in addition to needing the space I don't want the excess weight.
I scoured my favorite department store, Goodwill (GW) for most of the things I needed, and lots I didn't. I found, for example, this 10-foot outdoor cushion for $9, which I cut down to lay on top of the existing 4" foam (the inside of the teardrop is all mattress). The fabric's a gorgeous, playful Oriental print on one side with stripes on the other, in a bright raspberry color. This established my 'color scheme'.
My teardrop was built by a woman up in the Dalles, along the Columbia River. It then belonged to a young couple who took it camping occasionally during their 18 month ownership, and now it's mine. The carpentry work may not be perfect but it's certainly better than what I'm capable of; and as I read years ago (and freely share): "Excellence does not require Perfection." Henry David Thoreau.
What I CAN do is use paint to cover flaws: my own and other's. Self-taught, in addition to Folk Art and Gourds I enjoy painting Trompe l'Oeil, or
trick of the eye. In my RV homes I've painted windows looking out to the sea, because I figured that even if I was in a Walmart parking lot, at least I could wake up and still have a nice view.
I'd originally considered painting the entire inside, complete with a sky ceiling, it's not very large after all. But then I realized the DOORS take up most of the wall space, so I'd begin with them and see how I felt after that.
Window views give you the feeling of expanse, and in a cramped RV that's important. I ultimately painted the inside doors to resemble windows, enlarging the view of the real windows but adding stone surrounds; and adding added little things on the shelf 'under' the view: a framed picture of my late husband; my homemade Corona mask; midnight snacks for BC and me (see her peeking inside, lower right corner).
After playing around with ideas and searching but not finding suitable curtains in GW, I bought some nice blackout panels with sheer fronts online for $25, to lessen the effect of the sun's heat inside. I cut them last year but just hemmed them last week, prior to Robin's latest visit.
She's been my Guinea pig, since I've still not slept inside myself; and her comments have been invaluable in creating a manageable, and hopefully comfortable, sleeping cubby. I sewed some cafe curtains with the excess fabric for the real windows, for privacy. They can be easily rolled up and tied for a full view. A couple of black metal hangers over the windows, more GW finds, will, I hope, prove handy for holding keys, leashes, hats, whatever.
The windows were strange to me, for they opened from the top down. Unfortunately, that meant when the window was down the screen fell down as well; so I purchased a couple of child-proof window stops to cure that; which also offer additional security.
I needed small rods for the curtains because the ceiling is only an inch or two above the door, and I found the perfect cafe rods in GW for 2 bucks. Brackets for the rods were another problem again because of space, plus the teardrop slopes towards the front (below). That is, until I discovered clever people online selling hangers for hand towels and kitchen kitsch out of strips of leather and screws, for $15 each. I needed 4; $60? More power to them, but no way.
"I can do that!" so I bought an entire roll of leather for $10 plus some screws and made my own. I've got them screwed in the ceiling holding the rods, and I still have lots of leather left. Looks strange but it works!
One thing I do like to splurge on is hardware. The doors have locks but the mechanism inside is somewhat awkward; plus one door sticks, and as much as I've tried to fix it it still sticks, making it difficult to shut from the inside.
I didn't want the possibility of either door accidentally opening and BC escaping, so I picked up some nice catches and installed them below the handle. I've got a couple of cool pulls coming in the mail now to help yank the doors closed, and I'm investigating hooks and latches to keep the doors open. At this point I was debating how to paint the wooden frame surrounding the door; but a few weeks ago decided it would look best just to paint them like the doors so as not to break up the space so much.
The inside was empty, but for a strange little canvas 'shelf' which rolls back out of the way when not in use.
The previous owner agreed it was strange, but said it was pretty handy to throw stuff on. I thought it would be more practical higher up and tried to move the wooden supports attached to the wall, but the builder must have used cement. However, it turns out the position of the shelf is just fine, you'll see why.
"Since I can't move it, disguise it!" So I picked up a piece of bright pink vinyl to match the cushions, laid it over the canvas and stapled it to the wooden dowels. Certainly more fun!
But here's one of my more brilliant ideas. While strolling around GW I found four silkscreened panels which, according to the artist's gallery tags on the reverse, were on the market for $400 apiece. They were half-off so I picked them up for 6 bucks each. They're gorgeous pieces of art, and I just can't resist picking up other artist's work in Goodwill; which is where much of my own art will likely wind up. I know the amount of time involved, thanks to observing my Artesan pals while in Puerto Rico; and it breaks my heart to see such work no longer valued.
I'd installed a shower curtain rod across the space to hang clothes, and started playing around with the panels, thinking one or two might be nice space dividers. During the process of permanently mounting the rod it fell on my head plenty of times until, just like Newton's Apple, I realized that if I doubled the panels
backwards I could use them to hold rolled-up linens, clothes, whatever.
I added a second rod to the back wall and hung three of them there; donating the religious looking Gabriel to my friend's church in Lake Tahoe. I didn't think I could wake up to that vision, plus I can use all the Brownie points I can get. Someone's quilted piece of Styrofoam fit over the top hatch (again, protection against the sun); and a framed needlepoint project propped against the ceiling is to be my 'project' when I'm camping, we'll see...
The spotlights installed in the ceiling were wired to a battery, which I no longer have (another story). I didn't like the way they lit up the place like an interrogation room anyway, so I picked up a portable power source for inside lights, to charge phones and computers, and running a fan; I've been amazed at what's out there.
I'd picked up some inexpensive wooden crates to use in the 'kitchen' but wound up finding uses for them inside. The one on the ceiling was another accident. I was trying to figure out where I might use it when I lost my balance stepping on a screwdriver; and when my hand holding the crate hit the wall for support the crate just sort of FIT there. So I attached some metal braces to KEEP it there, handy little thing. I slit a pink noodle along one side and cut it in two pieces, to place over the metal door threshold if I want; it can hurt.
Other doo-dads include this little folding shelf. They came in a package of 2, so I put one on either side of the 'pillow' so I'll have a bedside table no matter
which side of the room BC takes.
I'm working on screens for the doors, since it's such a nice breeze when both are open. BC has to be tied because she bolts when frightened by loud noises; so to keep her from climbing the stairs and jumping out the other side, I can use her baby gate, which I've had for years.
This is more fun that a doll house! That's it for the inside. I've posted the
Modular Kitchen separately, don't miss it!
Ingenious! Your ideas are so innovative and smart! What a difference from the plain, brown box that it was originally. It's really pretty and a reflection of you - a veritable piece of art. And it looks so comfy. As we grow older, we find that we can be comfortable without a lot of do-dads, and this little Teardrop seems to be equipped with everything a person could really need while on the road. And it holds it all in style.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I really enjoyed the decorating challenges of something this small. Certainly passed the time during Covid; and you are right; you don't really need much.
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