But even though I put the building plans on ice, I still couldn't stop looking at tiny-house websites and blogs, dreaming up nifty storage and layout ideas, and generally just longing for a place I could call my very own. So yesterday when I, as I sometimes do just for fun, typed "circus wagon" into the search field of the Swedish ebay equivalent, I certainly had no idea that just hours later I would find myself the proud and very excited owner of an old, smelly, neglected and run down, but oh-so-sweet former horse trainer's dwelling - future party-of-two home on wheels. A friend with a tractor helped me pick it up earlier today, and now she stands, blue and rusty, half gutted and wet on the rain soaked courtyard outside the barn. Tomorrow I will continue to tare her insides apart, hopefully revealing a not too rotten frame, which will be the skeleton on which I will mold the most charming tiny house in Sweden. With absolutely no idea of how to build anything more complicated than a shelf, having this foundation, this frame to work from makes me feel so much more at ease than just standing next to an iron trailer with a pile of wood and pondering over the best way to fit the floor joists. This I can do!
I certainly don't think it will be done in a jiffy. Baby Sam is still making it hard to move like a normal person, and with every inch he grows we're getting closer to the actual meet. Once that happens I know he'll have my full-time attention for a long time to come. But if I could somehow have the trailer fixed up enough so that it's livable by next summer, we will have an awesome home to spend the sunny, lazy days in. And that feels like a good goal.
The front bit. See that rope with a weight on the left? If you flip the metal "wings" down and crank out the yellow awnings, swish: you have five places on each side of the wagon to tie your circus horses!
I love the horse warning triangle.
Nellie boxer checks out the interior. (She wasn't impressed.)