|As you may have noted from previous posts, I am slightly obsessed with caravans. Vintage models in particular; the kitschier, the better. |
My obsession has been known to climb to new heights when caravans are made to resemble permanent structures, incorporating DIY additions to cement them into little houses. This obsession borders on fetishism when the house and 'yard' are bedecked with fences, flowers, figurines and other such paraphernalia. Yes, I'm talking about the sort of dwellings most commonly found in trailer parks, those oft' ridiculed fringes of society. I can't get enough of them.
Imagine my excitement then, when we pulled into a camp ground in the wooded suburbs of Maine, to find carved critters and fixed abode caravans everywhere. Many a home and front yard set up in many a kitsch manner. Outdoor lounges weather proofed to perfection. Old folks cooking around fires and residents yarning neighbourly over fences. Life as it should be.
Stadig Campground was an adorable home away from home, where we wiled away a couple of days, whilst being mothered by the amazing hostess Pat. Listening to country music at the front office while Pat's family went about their lives around us, I thought about the importance of family and community, and looked forward to the day when I could create my own little picket fence.
Their hospitality made it hard for us to leave, but we pulled ourselves away and migrated down the country to Virginia, to discover the secrets of the Blue Ridge Mountains.