After the sudden demise of my home in the Wall Tent studio, everything got moved over to my brother's 1945 Beck Mainliner bus, which had been his quarters since purchasing and restoring it. As it worked out, he moved up to town to be near his new job just a few weeks before, and it was waiting and empty.
Here's a link to his chronicle of the restoration process over the last three years. Naturally, it's got a bit of a vintage makeover since I've moved in!
I have to say I have a sort of phobia of living in narrow, rectangular, trailer-shaped spaces, as I've lived in them on and off for at least half of my life and am biased. Against them, that is. I just have a thing for four square walls... they're special. But in spite of that, and in spite of the risk I run daily of being labeled a Bus Troll (for the uninitiated, that's local terminology for dwellers of busses), I am happy to say that it's wonderful in here. I miss the blissful crackle of my wood stove and hum of my tea kettle, but waking up in the morning to a warm room and knowing you won't have to give another thought to variables such as weather, precipitation, newspaper, screws, pitch, ash, and a thousand other things to keep warm all day is incredibly luxurious.
Also, looking out of the window is something I had almost forgotten to miss, living in the tent, but it's really pretty awesome.
One of your sweet comments on the last wall tent post seemed to capture what I was feeling about the whole upheaval...
I felt like my little world was some special book, dropped in the woods and drowned in the rain.
But like most things in this world, we're given a chance to take the future up and repair what seemed lost... that book has been taken up, dried out, and opened a beautiful new chapter.
God is so good.