This week has been about packing, packing and packing. Other than the heartfelt goodbyes from friends, lettering students/colleagues/teachers, and my team (still not sure what my world will look like without you in my life everyday)—it’s been about wrapping it all up. And Ray has been a real trooper. How else could we pull off a move like this in a matter of days? So much to consider: what to take, what to store, what to ship to future destinations.

Flo has also been pulling herself together.
Okay, with a lot of help.

Here she is with her ruby reds. I was telling my dad about the recessed LED lights I was wanting to get for the interior. It will glow different colors to NOT attract bugs at night and also fade along with music. While pimping my trailer, I’m not sure dad has the same vision. He said, “you can keep putting lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” My dad deserves a chapter in Justin Halpern’s book.

And then this happened…

Yes, it’s the mag chloride crusted bumper of my Jeep, but that’s not the point. Can you see what’s missing? Uh. No ball hitch. Hmmm. Houston, we have a problem.

Stay tuned.

Choosing a name for a teardrop trailer is a lot like naming a boat. After asking friends and family for ideas, we received many great options: Silver Bullet, Drabeformet (Danish for teardrop), Larme (French for teardrop), and Bandit to name a few.

We were inspired by the name Flo for a few reasons. Ask yourself: who comes to mind when you hear “Kiss my grits?” The character from the 1970s show “Alice” has just the kind of “garage-sale ornery” and sassy style we need to take with us on the road—not to mention her inverted teardrop hairdo. Flo was also a very popular name in the 1940s—keep in mind that the trailer is c. 1947. And the theme for my current integrated vision quest is “flow” based on the work of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. The idea is that while on the road, we are going with the flow (only without the ‘w’).

Staying Inspired
While on the topic of inspiration, every bit helps when taking on a project like this. Sure, what we are doing is a big life dream—the kind you read about in magazines or online, like this!

When people ask us questions because they are just as enthusiastic as we are, it’s a boost for us too. But that doesn’t mean that sometimes we get scared or ask each other, “are we crazy?”

Whether it’s a note from a friend or a coaching session where the focus is on transition, we all need a little inspiration from time to time. We would love to hear from you too! (Psst, drop us a line here.)

The partial graphic above includes notes from a recent session with Lisa Dymond. You can learn more about her amazing work or leverage her coaching skills by visiting http://lisadymond.com. Or you can visit her Facebook page.

But at the heart of this project and every inspiration is Mom.
Isn’t that always true? When my mom gets her heart set on something, watch out because there is no stopping her. And who would want to? She has a vision and a dream to remodel this trailer. Actually, it’s a beta test and Ray and I are the beneficiaries/guinea pigs. The ultimate plan is to remodel Mom’s Airstream next. That is if Dad has it in him. His backlog of big, creative projects is longer than all of the creatives in our family combined!

Here’s a picture of Mom doing her best Vanna White impression after Dad buffed out the shell. Can you believe that aluminum is 70 years old? And this gorgeous lady is only 40 with 20+ years of experience.

Mom and Dad have been hard at it to prep Flo for the road. Dad has painted the frame to match the shell. New tires with 3” white walls will add to her vintage look. And what’s a project like this worth without a few scraped knuckles and hammer pounded fingers? Dad stamped mom’s name into the frame. Now that’s love and dedication!

It’s been a productive week! Mom and Dad have been busy: Flo has a new floor, reinforced trailer frame and new shoes.

When mom first sent the photo, I hardly saw Flo’s trailer on the trailer it was riding on. Wow, she is tiny! Always a good storyteller, when the numbers “585” were found on the frame, mom said it was the 585th one in production. Maybe? And because the frame is 70 year’s old, dad was worried about the structure so he reinforced it with enough iron to last another 70.

Now that the floor has been sanded and sealed, it can be attached to the shell. Here you can see views of the interior and galley.

And finally, Flo has ruby red slippers. Having painted many cars as a body man, dad knows just what to do. When he asked me what color I wanted the wheels, I instantly said, “Red!” Which worked out great since he found a can of red paint on the floorboard of a ’49 Ford he bought last week. Hopefully he can save enough for me to pinstripe her before hitting the road.