How We Nearly Gave Up Bing

The last few months have been tumultuous for us, and precarious for Bing. Twice, we pretty much made up our minds we'd have to sell her. Twice, we suffered broken hearts. Then we came to our senses and made a pact: no matter what happens, even if Bing sits forever in the driveway, we will never sell her. Not while our kids are young, anyway.

Here's what happened:

Way back last fall when I came down with a raging case of Glamper Fever, I knew our current vehicle, a 2007 Mazda 5, would be a major obstacle because it doesn't tow. Anything. Not even a garden trailer. We'd only bought the car two years prior, and switching cars seemed frivolous to say the least. But, I had a dream, and pretty soon, the entire family shared my dream. We determined to make it all work, and went ahead and bought Bing.

Then our dog, Higgins, got sick. He swallowed one little fruit pit and next thing we knew, he'd undergone emergency surgery, developed an inflamed liver, and suffered a spinal arthritis flare-up that sent him into full body crisis. We spent our entire Christmas vacation listening to scary words like CANCER down at the vet's office, terrified we were going to lose him at the tender age of 8. Fortunately, our beloved pooch healed up just fine--liver, arthritis and all--but our bank account was severely injured. (Yes, Higgins is SOOOO getting a paper route this summer!!!)

Enter Bing Crisis Number One. How could we afford to keep her? Shouldn't we sell her to recover some of the vet expenses? How'd we ever think we could afford a camper anyway, not even counting the vehicle problem? My daughter and I spent one entire, miserable day just wandering the house in tears. It was not good. For both of us, the end of Bing meant the end of THE DREAM. I'll never forget Ariel wailing, "Mommy, do you mean that dreams don't always come true? How can our dream not come true?"

Oh, boy. I know life teaches some hard lessons and children must learn to make sacrifices. But seven is an awfully tender age to be faced with the harsh reality of something as terrible as a failed dream. And I needed Bing. She seemed to fulfill a lot of different needs in me; the need for my own space, the need for something of my very own to nurture and share with my family, the need to give my children some beautiful memories, the need for the personal challenge of doing things on my own. And the need to do something for myself without the guilt or regret that mothers often feel when they indulge in a little soul nurturing. Doug and I had a heart to heart and resolved to keep Bing.

The New Year carried on and we suffered another couple of minor unexpected setbacks; still, we started our search for new vehicle in earnest. We got out the LemonAid and the Consumer Reports and all the other used car guides to find just the right vehicle for towing Bing. Since our little glamper weighs in at only 2000 lbs. GVW, we knew we didn't need a truck. And since we're a one car family, we needed something small enough to whip around town without guzzling too much gas. The 2008 Ford Escape turned out to fit the bill. It has an excellent safety record as far as we can tell, tows 3500 lbs, and is affordable. We started hunting Used Victoria and all the other listings for used cars nearby.

We found a lovely, lady-driven model with 106,000 km on it, a clean bill of mechanical health, and a nice price tag. We bought it and drove it home. We could finally tow Bing! We couldn't stop pinching ourselves.

Five days later the Escape's transmission blew up. Enter Bing Crisis Number Two. As the hefty repair estimates rolled in, we again went into despair. The only affordable path we could see was to fix the Escape, sell it, and sell Bing. We hadn't sold our Mazda 5 yet, but its value is the lesser of the two vehicles, so the numbers crunched in its favour. Again, we faced the loss of dreams and a household full of broken hearts. I went on the Glampers on the Loose Facebook page and poured my heart out.

"Don't sell Bing, even if she just sits in your driveway!" "We're rooting for you!" "Keep your chin up, honey, it'll work out!" All those lovely ladies chimed in. They were right. Bolstered by so much support, I blew my nose and got down to the business of Making Bing Work.

The previous owners of our Escape got wind of the troubles and phoned right away, offering to pay half the repair bill. I will forever love them for it, because it made all the difference. We were still out of pocket, but the blow was lessened now, and it no longer made sense to sell everything. Bing was here to stay.

And so, now we see things a little differently around here. We have a brand new transmission--all the better to tow Bing with, right? We have new enthusiasm for the work we need to do to Bing--and her mini renovation is well underway. We also know how much this little glamper means to us--ALL of us. I think she means more to us than we even realized. We will never give her up for a little thing like a financial crisis.

And best of all, my daughter has learned a lesson I think will support her for the rest of her life:

Dreams really do come true.

Edible Dragons

In the spirit of getting a little more adventurous, Ariel and I decided that every time we visit the grocery store, we'll try something new. Some ethnic dish, maybe, or an exotic spice, or something wild and crazy from the produce aisle.

Sometimes our palates are less that pleased, but often, the "new" food becomes a family favourite. Such is the case with Dragon Fruit (or, as it's more formerly known, the white-fleshed Pitahaya).

Glamour Fruit

Ariel adores dragons, so anything related is an obvious choice for her. The idea of eating something from the cactus family fascinates me; plus, we think the Dragon Fruit is especially pretty. It looks kinda like a hot pink pineapple, though smaller and less prickly. And when you slice it open--Surprise! Inside, is milky white flesh dotted with tiny black seeds similar to a kiwi.

The skin has almost a rubbery texture, and peels easily, which means it's easy to prepare and makes very little mess. I like that in a fruit. We're fascinated by the contrasting colours, and, being pink kinda girls, we're still trying to figure out how to use that pop star pink skin as fabric dye.

At first glance, the fruit appears a bit dry, but is juicy as a melon when you pop a chunk into your mouth. The flavour is very delicate: mildly sweet with a little hint of tartness here and there. The tiny seeds add a nice little  crunch.

My husband doesn't think much of the Dragon Fruit, but the kids and I give it two thumbs up. It's an inexpensive, easy-to-prepare delicacy that's pretty enough, well, to eat!

Entomology Art

 My daughter's fascination with all things that squirm, wiggle, slime and crawl began in toddlerhood. I remember her at the age of two, sitting in a lotus pose in her carseat with a squirming ant pinched delicately between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. Whenever I'd hear, "Mommy, can you please hold these for a minute?" I'd first look for tiny legs wiggling out from between the cracks of her little fingers before I'd agree to hold whatever she was clutching. 

Recently, my husband found a beautifully intact (dead) dragonfly on the deck of the ferry he works on, and brought it home for Ariel. Later, she found a large moth that had died with its proboscis extended, which she spent hours examining with a magnifying glass. Eventually, an assortment of tiny wings--some bird, some insect--found their way into her collection, along with a piece of wasp hive and a pretty yellow moth. 

Dead insect wall art may not be everyone's cup of tea. But Ariel wanted to hang hers on her bedroom wall, and we knew that storing them in paper cups and old light bulb boxes wasn't the most reliable way to keep them safe. 

Here's what I did:

I bought three, inexpensive shadow boxes from a crafts store and punched out the plexiglass, then washed them with watered down Annie Sloan Chalk Paint in Paris Grey for a lovely, weathered wood effect. The frames are roughly (translate: cheaply) made, but I didn't bother sanding the wood because I liked the rustic look created by the raised grain.

The frames didn't have hangers on the back, so I used my small staple gun to attach a bit of ribbon for hanging.  I didn't bother to paint the entire back of the frame; only the parts that show when you look at the shadow box from the front.

I used a lovely scrap of oatmeal coloured silk to cover the wooden frame backing. I simply cut a square piece one inch larger than the backing, and attached it with fabric glue-tape. Then I very carefully attached the dragonfly to the wooden backing with a straight pin. I did the same for all three frames, attaching the smaller insects and wings with a tiny dab of hot glue, using tweezers to arrange the most delicate specimens without damaging them.

I inserted the backings into the frame and voila! I like the look of them. They are little bits of  Mother Nature's perfection, with Shabby Chic appeal. To me, the rough, muted grey wood looks sophisticated paired with the silk, and the ribbon gives a little pop of fun colour, like robin's eggs in a nest of twigs. 

My only complaint: the slight rippling of the fabric, which appeared when I put the frames back together. Next time, I'll use more glue-tape to adhere the fabric firmly in place.  

I think they'd look smashing in my dining room, but then again, not everyone likes to look at bugs while they eat. Perhaps I'd better stick to shells...

So, bugs on the wall: Ick or Art? I suppose, as with so many things, it's all in the eye of the beholder.

In Honour of International Women's Day: A Confession and A Challenge

It may seem an odd confession to make on International Women's Day, but I'm afraid that in some ways, I'm not a very good feminist.

Let me explain. I believe every woman and girl should be loved, cherished and respected for the way she enriches this world, no matter where she lives or what path she chooses for her life. I am committed to raising my daughter to believe, right down to the core of her being, that nobody can ever hold her back from creating her own future. But do I always set a good example?

In my house, there are definite blue and pink jobs. Most of the time, it's a division according to my husband's and my particular talents, which makes sense; in fact, to recognize each other's strengths and weaknesses and work together accordingly forms the foundation of any good partnership. Doug's great at fixing the plumbing, while I've got a knack for managing finances. He doesn't mind taking out the garbage, while I don't mind giving the kids a bath. But there are times when I wonder: do I hide behind my so-called weaknesses to get out of doing distasteful tasks? I could learn to renovate the garage, but I don't know much about home repairs. Plus, I absolutely hate measuring things. Is this just a shameful excuse?

In my professional capacity as a freelance journalist (and formerly financial office-type), I hide behind nothing. I don't let gender or insecurities get in my way. I am ambitious, I set goals, and I do my best to achieve them. I'm not afraid to flex my intellectual muscles; to jump in and get my brain cells dirty.

But when it comes to fixing a leaky toilet, or changing the oil in the car, or installing a baseboard heater, I step back and let the men in my life do their thing.

What holds me back? I'm small for a grown up, and not very strong. I get scared easily when it comes to physical things (I didn't even ditch my bike training wheels until I was eight years old!). I get frustrated and embarrassed when I can't do something simply because...I just can't. And some things are boring or tedious or distasteful to me. Like everyone else, I have things I'm good at and love doing, and things I'm lousy at or just plain hate.

In Grade 9, I was one of only two girls who signed up for woodworking class. The project for the term was to make a side table with one drawer. Failure to complete the project meant an F grade. Our teacher pulled us girls aside and told us if we found the side table too hard, we could make a lamp instead and be graded the same as all the boys who completed their "harder" project. I was furious! How dare he be so condescending? No way was I taking the easy road; I'd show him what girls could do with a few board feet of lumber!

Near the end of term, I was sadly behind and in danger of failing the class. My problem? I was deathly afraid to use the big machines. Maybe it was the slideshow of horrible, machine-related injuries our teacher showed us at the beginning of the term by way of safety training. But I couldn't get near the table saw.

I chucked my self-respect to the wolves and meekly asked if I could, after all, make the lamp.

As it turned out, I adored making that lamp. I had no fear of the lathe, and loved shaping my laminated blocks of wood into something beautiful. I loved seeing the wood grain appear as I chiseled and sanded the curves until I could hold my design in my hands. I drilled a hole through the centre, wired it, added a matching lampshade and turned my project in. I got an A in that class and gave the lamp to my mother for her birthday.

Was this just a matter of working within my talents and abilities, or did I simply wimp out? To this day, I'm filled with equal parts shame and pride whenever I look at that lamp.

And this is where Glamping comes in.

I think the biggest reason I've taken to glamping so passionately is that it challenges me to get comfortable outside my comfort zone; to pick up my power tools (no table saws, though) and fix up my trailer myself. The dangling carrot is that I get to pretty up my very own playhouse exactly the way I want!

The whole idea is that it's a girl thing. Grab your toolbox, girls! Says MaryJane Butters, the Mother of All Glamping Sisters. You don't need a man's help to refurbish your vintage trailer or drive you through mountains and valleys to get to that glamping rally halfway across the country! You can park your trailer like a pro, pump your own sewage, fix a flat tire along the way, and set up the prettiest darned campsite anyone's ever seen! This glamping thing is all yours; don't let anyone tell you how to do it!

I feel like someone waved a magic wand over my head and said: "I hereby grant you permission and the physical ability to do what you've never done before." I'm not sure I've ever been inspired quite in this way, but I'm determined to this glamping thing all by myself, pink jobs, blue jobs and everything in between. Like my turned-wood lamp, I think I've found a way to master stuff outside my realm of comfort in a way that simultaneously allows my talents to shine. I'm driven by a need to prove to myself that I won't back down, won't give in, won't wind up sitting in the passenger seat forever after while my husband parks the trailer. There's a whole lot of character development going on here, thanks to this whole glamping thing and all my Fairy Godmothers out there who are already doing it. I can't wait to see where it takes me.

From Canada and Australia to Europe and all across the United States, Glamping Sisters are doing it for themselves. Three cheers for every blessed woman out there.

Have Bucket List, Will Travel

Do you have a bucket list full of places you'd love to visit in your glamper? 

Ours is filling up fast. By the time our glamper is ready to roll, we might need a bigger bucket! 

Here's a travel destination to get us started:

Tofino, Vancouver Island, BC

From our home in Sidney on the southern tip of Vancouver Island, the small, coastal town of Tofino is only a few hours' drive north--ideal for newbie glampers like us. The wilderness here is just about as Beautiful British Columbia as you can get! Ever heard of Long Beach? Or the famed West Coast Trail? Or Pacific Rim National Park? Well, this is it! Orca and grey whales, hot springs, and the wide open Pacific ocean...Mother Nature doesn't get much better than this. Hey, don't forget your surf-board, baby!

MacKenzie Beach. Photo used with permission from Bella Pacifica Campground.

Bella Pacifica Campground had me at the first glamper-themed photo on their too-cool-for-words website. We'll be right at home there--I'll even bring along my guitar for a little campfire croonin'. At night we'll fall asleep to the sound of the big surf crashing on the sands of MacKenzie Beach...

Photo used with permission from Bella Pacifica Campground

and first thing in the morning we'll race to see who's brave enough to test the cold waters first. Surf's up!

Photo used with permission from Bella Pacifica Campground

Photo used with permission from Bella Pacifica Campground.

Good thing my kids are homeschooled, 'cause we'll probably want to stay awhile!

For more information (and gorgeous photos) visit: 

http://www.bellapacifica.com/

New Bling for Bing

A girl (or guy) can never have too many treasures for her glamper. My glamper came empty; nary a spoon or can opener to start out with. But that's just fine with me, because I get to treasure hunt for dishes, cutlery, linens, towel holders--everything! Wheeee!

Did you design your glamper's interior around a specific theme, or did a single object inspire you--a pretty tablecloth maybe, vintage hankie, or perhaps an old, tin can? I started with a colour: red. Cherries aren't blue, after all. 

I've got plans for a red and white theme, with black and white tiled floors, a bit of old French country and, of course, some cherries. I thought of going all out with a cherry theme, but I hate to limit myself that much, so I'm on the hunt for red things that cost next to nothing but have oodles of charm.

With two kids at home, I don't have much time to go out and shop. So I've fallen into a bit of a love affair with eBay and Etsy. Many a late hour I've spent in delicious, online shopping fun, poking through other people's old stuff until I find something that makes my heart flip. For some reason, the process of bidding and then having to wait for my items to arrive in the mail just adds to all the delicious fun. 

Here are the heart-flipping red things I've found so far: 

A handmade toaster cover, circa the 1950s. Don't the ruffles just pop? (Get it? Ba-Dum-Bum-Ching!)

Vintage French torchons and some ancient crocheted doilies. (Torchons. Don't you just love that word?)

A classic red-checked tablecloth and banged up cutlery holder I plan to repaint with a little help from clever Annie Sloan and her chalk paints.

You see why I had to buy these monogrammed torchons, don't you?  Clearly, they were made just for me!

Dinner rolls taste extra yummy served in this darling handmade holder!

I love this colour palette. Dog and chevron-patterned fabric swatches are both from Tonic Living. Sophisticated, yet they make my kids grin!

 Gosh, I love eyelet and lace, don't you? The enamel-coated English tin cost $3.50 in a local thrift store. The bit of red peeking out near the bottom is a vintage valance that will find new life as a curtain for my eight foot long front window. The eyelet, a door-curtain maybe?

What's your favourite glamper treasure? Think about it, leave a comment, and in the meantime, I'll just pop over to eBay and have a quick look...

Bing's First Night At Home

The woman who sold us our trailer last September was kind enough to deliver it to our house and give us a trailer-hitch-to-bumper tour. We peppered her with questions. How do we light the stove? How does the furnace work? What about the fridge? How do we pump the...you know, blackwater? If you're new to glamping and shopping for a little canned ham to call your own, be sure to get the former owner to show you all the inner workings, if you can. Especially if you want to use your glamper right away!

Unfortunately for us, our current vehicle isn't capable of towing a toy wagon, much less a camper, not even one as light as Bing (her GVWR is just over 1950 lbs.). Until we find a sturdier vehicle, Bing won't see any pavement beyond the driveway. That said, we had to test 'er out that first night. While Doug popped out to forage the grocery store for a BBQ chicken, I gathered up some dishes and heated up a pot of soup (I had to play with my new stove!). 

We've never had such fun! 

Bing's pretty tiny at only 11 feet long (not including hitch), but her clever layout suits the four of us plus pooch. And really, Bing's considerably roomier than the little sailboat we're used to, so it's a step up for us, size-wise. The dinette converts into a very cozy double bed (translate: narrow), with two bunks at the front plus the nicely equipped galley. (Do they call kitchens galleys in campers, like in boats?) There's also a nice big closet, and a tiny bathroom too! I'm so glad, because I really hate braving cougars and other wild things to empty my bladder in the night.

The curtains have to go, of course, but even as she is, she's pretty cute, don't you think? 

I never thought it was possible to love a silly little old camper trailer this much. But every time I feel blue, I just look out the window at my driveway and suddenly my shoulders feel a little lighter.

Which is really funny considering how much work she's going to be!