Aluminum Loaf

Since we bought our Airstream fifteen months ago, we have used the built-in televion a grand total of one time. We tried to watch a documentary on it together, but honestly, we are both so used to our individual iPad form factors and the control we have over them that we just didn't enjoy the experience, and never bothered to try again. 

Well, Badger was thinking to use it as an external monitor for his laptop—and he did try doing that, once. The TV is mounted is on an articulated arm, so it stretches out from the wall maybe four feet or so, and thus can be placed at eye level above the table. But honestly, the resolution wasn't anywhere near good enough to bother trying to use it in that way again—have I mentioned that we are thoroughly spoiled by our deliciously clear Apple laptop screens?

So, it's been hanging there, bothering me, for fifteen months. I have gone so far as to start attaching my current projects to it. Things that I have been thinking about or working on ... in this case a genealogical chart for an old friend. 

And recently—I guess since Badger has gone back out to sea—I have started writing in my journal about methods to cover it, repurpose it ... anything to have it not be just sitting there, staring at me. It's been really bothering me since he left (that's his side of the table, so when I look up, I guess his huge head is usually blocking my view of it).

I have mentioned to Badger on multiple occasions that we could just remove it, but it looked pretty solidly attached and there were so many cables and cords and screws—and the bloody thing weighs a ton. And for some reason he cares about the Airstream's resale value (like he'll *ever* get rid of this gorgeous thing!). So neither of us looked into it very closely to see what would be involved because we both figured that the cables would have to be cut, and that was a unquestionable deal-breaker for him. And I also figured that the piece of awesome 50s-style sheetmetal would have a huge hole in it that I'd then need to cover up.

So I did nothing. Until today!!!

I couldn't possibly be any happier with the result of yesterday's efforts. It took many hours, but I have successfully replaced the blue and white striped (polyester?) fabric on our gaucho with cotton. The bottom cushions are now covered in a rich black, and the back cushion has an amazing mushroom print on it. I also removed the very long side cushion and replaced it with black and silver pillows, giving us even more room to stretch out—seven whole feet equals Hutch-size! Overall, an epic success!

Husband may well murder me when he gets back from being out-to-sea, but I just had to do it. I couldn’t stand that wobble or the squeak for one more bleedin’ moment. And woo-hoo, boy, the change looks and feels fantastic. Yup, I removed the bench seat on my side of the table in the Airstream. Yup, I did that.

Maybe you should know something about the background so that you can join me in celebrating my epic success. First, I work here. I work from that very spot for countless hours every day, whether we are in our usual spot in Poulsbo, or boondocking elsewhere. Hours and hours and hours every day. And being a normal human person, I occasionally move or shift or stretch. About six months ago, each time I in any way altered my position, I started to hear a squeak. I couldn’t figure out exactly where it was coming from and it was driving me batty [hubs would interject here: “you can’t drive anywhere that you already are” which is what he says every time I mention that something is making me crazy or insane or bonkers]. I tried everything from tightening the screws, to stuffing cotton balls down the crack between the bench and the wall, to attaching a strip of loop (from some extra hook-and-loop I had—aka velcro). Sometimes I would get a few days of relief, but then there it was again, the dreaded squeak. Such utter aggravation. 

Once, while renovating a house, I told my mother that I was feeling completely overwhelmed by the task and that I couldn't even see what project to begin next as there were just too many. She essentally told me to take a deep breath and calmly look around; establish what the "single most awfulest" thing currenty was, ignore everything else, and just focus on that one thing. Sage advice, and I've been using it since on all fronts both personal and professional. 

We've made quite a number of improvements to our Airstream, but the thing I have most abhored from day one was the goofusy blue palm tree curtains. Hate. I tried an experiment with dying the ones in the bedroom and that worked out fine, but I really wanted something more classy for the front, and in a different material. I'd looked all over at so many options, but finally one day it hit me: white pleather! Easy to sew, doesn't need a second layer of privacy fabric as many other options would, and it was cheap. And so began my Saturday sewing project ...

Badger took this photo while I was sewing away ... ugh.

Here are the original curtains. It isn't so much that the curtains are blue, or that they necessarily have palm trees on them—although that's highly suspect to me being that I prefer cold to warm, and drizzle to sun—it's that the awful blue stripes on the cushions totally CLASH with the blue of the curtains. Anyway, I digress ...