When Ford was about six months old, and we were weary of living in a hotel in Connecticut, we slung our money into an Airstream trailer. If not just as an escape, we bought it so we could toodle around the East Coast for a while. We trailered it with a converted stepvan that had a wireless satallite atop the hood, which served as Damon’s workspace, and I’d follow the trailer around New England in our family car, birddogging through the convoluted Boston construction, around granite cliffs in Maine, along quaint historical neighborhood streets. I loved every part of the journey, even the perpetually damp and confining bathroom that served our family of three and any visiting guests.
During the days that Damon worked at the brick office in Middleton, Connecticut, Ford and I spent our mornings and afternoons at the beach. I’d jog along the trail, he’d fall asleep under the billowing mosquito net ofthe jogger, and when he awoke we’d hang out on the beach itself. He learned to crawl on the sands of Hammonassett State Park. I’d put gossamer ctenophores in his hand, and they’d glisten little rainbow hairs as they slipped through his fat fingers. He’d wave his hands through the floating garden of red and green algae, slick translucent stained glass that looked entirely edible. He’d put rocks in his mouth, I’d sweep them out.
During the middle of the day, when it was too hot to be outside, we’d be confined to the trailer. And this was all good and actually lovely when he took his afternoon nap. I would steam up a latte and write or read. But when he was restless, we went a little stir crazy in the 22 foot trailer.
In this photo, Damon caught us decompressing against the screen door one hot afternoon, when we were too chicken to leave our three-odd square feet of cold air-conditioning and head to the beach.
Last May, we downsized and sold the trailer where Ford spent most of his first year. I miss it dearly, but what’s shocking is that Ford misses it, too. The other day I asked him,
“What do you miss about the Airstream?”
“The stickers in the windows. And the bed with all the windows around it.”
I miss the bed, too. I miss the encapsulation of our family within a small space, streamlining our experience and always having home to return to at the end of a bust day exploring some foreign place. That’s why I dream of a sailboat, of taking the kids for a year or so around the world, when they’re old enough not to need a “time out dinghy” or a line of drying cloth diapers hanging from the mast.
See more enclosures at SPC.
Wonderful post and I have airstream envy. I’ve always dreamed of traveling the US in an airstream but my husband has other ideas ~ sigh.
I love this. The picture so perfectly captures your experience and words. There is something special about showing yourself that you can live in such a small space, with not as much stuff, and be just as happy. That’s so easy to forget as we page through Pottery Barn or Living.
I think a year aboard a sailboat would be such a wonderful experience for all of you.
i love getting lost in your writing. what a wonderful way to spend your first year of life. I’d love a bed surrounded by windows, too. I don’t blame him.
This was such good writing–and I can’t tell you how long I’ve had that sailboat dream too…
that is GREAT (I always wanted an Airstream)
Oh Steph, this picture is PRICELESS. It wholly deserves to be chosen this week! And your writing is always so visceral and poignant – it is as if I was there (or watched the movie).
Just returned from your town and was so very sorry to leave. I wish I could throw caution to the wind and just move there. It feels like home to me. I’ll be posting about our adventures and my melancholic return to real life over the next few days.
All the best,
LeS
Steph, I stopped by your mom and dads tonight and they showed Kip and I your site. How truly amazing you are. I remember talking about your Airstream adventures while I was herding myself onto a plane full of human livestock every week to sleep in a robotic hotel. Wish I’d been you! I cant wait to read on…this certainly beats my current book.
Jenn
Wow — What an interesting year. There is a wonderful kid’s book in that I think. With some beautiful water colors of babies on the beach, the view through the windows of the trailer… maybe throw in some beachy science and turtle references… Yes – I see it.
Amy–I’m working on it 😉
Jenn–love you! thanks for the praise and I can’t wait to see you again soon!
LeS–I missed seeing you in Austin! But man, I can’t wait to read about the fun trip you’re talking about!
Molly–we’re going to build windows around his bed in our new home 🙂
Charmaine–downsizing into the trailer for a year was SO cleansing. it deserves special mention in another post, the actual difference it makes in terms of quality. i think quality and quantity, in experience, are somewhat inversely proportional.
*s
what a wonderful adventure!
and love the photo!
This picture just cracks me up! It reminds me of my nephew pressing his face up against the glass. Your writing is beautiful too!
too darned cute!