Day 2: Carving Up My Space

When my Nashua rolled off the assembly line some fifty-plus years ago, it's 35' length would have been cut up into five spaces, each one about seven feet long. You would have entered through the front door into a sitting room, dominated by a couch that pulled out into a guest bed that ran along the entire length of the front wall under and between a big bank of windows. This area would have been separated from the kitchen by some kind of partition or half-wall. Behind it would have sat a small u-shaped kitchen with the sink in the middle and the stove at the far end. There would have been a tiny table and chairs against the wall across from the sink. Next to that, there would have been a bank of floor-to-ceiling cabinets that would have housed the icebox or refrigerator among other things. From there, you would have entered a short hallway. The floor-to-ceiling cabinetry would have continue, on your left, all the way from the kitchen to the end of the hall. On your right there would have been, first, a sleeping alcove that held one twin bed or two bunked one on top of the other. Next, on your right, would have been the bathroom with the sink to left, the toilet to the right, and the tub against the far wall. The hallway would have ended at the door to a very cozy bedroom, 8 feet wide by 7 feet deep, that cradled a full-sized bed between two small built-in dresser/closet units along the back wall - a second door for entering/exiting the trailer in case of fire just to your left.

That layout has undergone a number of massive changes over the years. Where there were five spaces, there are now three. At some point, the wall enclosing the sleeping alcove was removed, and the kitchen was moved into that space. There is no partition wall between the kitchen and living area so that one room is really big and open which I happen to like a lot. The wall that separated the bathroom from the hallway was also removed.

I suspect this was done by the previous owner. The size of the hot water heater, and his choice to locate it in the bathroom, along with a 36" wide corner shower unit (as opposed to 30" wide standard tub), left him no where to put a sink. So down the wall came. The wall that separated the bathroom from the bedroom was made wider by sixteen inches, and a new sink was installed against the addition. The difference in length this created between the walls separating the bathroom from the bedroom and bathroom from the kitchen was a problem I get the feeling he was planning to address at some point in the future. For now, the bathroom sits open, its sink in what was once the hall, the rest of it tucked neatly away in the space where it actually belongs, begging for some better solution to this particular problem.

The only room that retains its original size is the bedroom. The built-ins are gone, but the moldings that enclosed them are still there, as is at least some of the original pressboard paneling. The door is gone, and the hole it left has been covered with a thin sheet of plywood.

I had a month to think about how to make the existing layout work for me before I moved in. It wasn't simply a matter of figuring out where to put my bed, or where to store my Christmas decorations. I had to figure out where to put everything I own, and still have room to work on the place: put in a kitchen, finish the bathroom, trim out my windows and doors, add flooring and baseboard, paint everything. I had to find space for all the tools I'd be using, as well as all the materials I needed to actually get all that work done. I also had to have a place to sleep, dress, and wash.

In the end, I opted to put my bed in the very front of the trailer, surrounded by that big bank of windows that originally enclosed its little fold-out couch unit. I would put all my tools, hardware, and materials in the bedroom - except for the stick lumber which I would store outside, under the trailer itself. Everything else - furniture, boxes, rugs, artwork, everything - would go in the middle of the main living area, leaving the seven feet I needed for a kitchen at the back completely empty and ready for me to start building cabinets the day after I got the power and toilet hooked up.

Today is that day.

The first thing you should know is that I had way more stuff than I realized. There was no way to unload it all by candlelight, and get it all stacked neatly in the middle of the living area like I'd planned. About halfway through, drenched in sweat, we gave up even trying and simply started putting stuff wherever we could find room.

So, my first order of business is to make room. I sort, stack, and condense everything into the smallest pile I can possibly make. I end up with about five feet of space to work in. Not enough to do both counters, but enough for the sink counter which is the first one I need to build. And enough, when I'm done, to put up some shelves over head so I can unpack a couple of my boxes and maybe make enough room to build the other cabinet.

I'm just about ready to start when I remember that missing piece of drywall - you know - the one the previous owner intentionally didn't put up so he could finish wiring and plumbing the hot water heater. That's the wall I'm getting ready to build a counter against, and install shelves on. I can't do either until I find, cut, hang, tape, and mud a piece of sheetrock over the hole.

Find is the operative word here. I don't have any sheetrock. I forgot I even needed it. I look at the wall the previous owner added so he could put a sink at least somewhere close to the bathroom. I know I'm eventually going to remove it altogether. It's not actually wide enough to cover the hole in the kitchen wall, but it's definitely long enough to get two pieces out of it that will.

I spend the next hour scavenging my own trailer to get the materials I need to get that hole covered. I spend the next two getting it up, taped, and applying a coat of joint compound to make the entire surface as level as possible.

It is work I absolutely detest.