It’s almost been a year since my husband and I made the serendipitous discovery of where we now live. Frustrations with our former apartment complex reached a peak and we were emotionally ready to get out, but finances seemed a little bleak. In the Richmond, Virginia area, apartment locations and/or rental rates are not friendly. The apartment hunt was not going well, and on a whim I changed my web search criteria to “for sale” and found a mobile home trailer for sale with rent-to-own mentioned in the listing.
We didn’t like the listed trailer, but the property manager brought us to one she hadn’t listed yet. Older and water damaged, but on a better plot of land and affordable if we did repairs ourselves… we bought it! We asked a ton of questions first, got my future in-laws to look at it (FIL is a big do-it-yourself guy), and took out a personal loan (the only kind of loan a mobile home qualifies for, sadly) for what we didn’t have outright. Exciting, though! Our own place (well, there is lot rent), a yard beside us and wooded property behind us, neighbors with lots of children, and the freedom to make it our own. Bills added up to the same as our old place, so once we finish paying off the personal loan with this year’s tax return, we start saving money (as compared to apartment life) and I intend to fully commit to creating a Countdown to Home Ownership plan.
Mobile home living has differences I wasn’t prepared for but in perfect honesty I should have figured. Walls are thin so you hear things you’re not used to… like acorns and sticks falling on the roof (still spooks me sometimes) and all rain is loud. The thud thud thud of heavy heeled children running around next door is almost as clear as apartment neighbor-noise. Thankfully voices and TVs don’t carry though. It’s really drafty–every cold snap this winter has inspired an exploration of where I need to stuff more insulation. And we had a mouse for a while… I was cleaning poops for a few weeks while it evaded my humane trap. I think the outdoor cat that lives under my house finally killed it because I haven’t seen any poop in well over a week. I’m avoiding the word “stray” because she’s friendlier than many pet cats I’ve met, the soft-hearted neighbor lady puts food out for it so its healthy, and it loves my family. Our dog doesn’t like it around so it’s highly doubtful it’ll ever be our pet, but we’re emotionally attached to it enough to let it live under the house this winter. Hubby wants to build it a shelter so we can close off the crawlspace eventually.
DIY renovations are slow, and I knew that going in… my dad is a jack-of-all-trades, made his living at masonry. He built a new garage, and did all the household repairs and upgrades in my childhood home. Finding time and motivation alongside his paying job of course, so some projects took a long time to complete–and that’s even with all the right tools and training. I have sadly discovered that watching drywall get hung and finished as a child did not mean I was destined to be good at it myself. The only thing we hired done so far was demolition. Tearing out moldy, tobacco-stained drywall and paneling was not something we wanted, nor had time to do. Plus, the walls turned out to be put up with a million staples and glue… broke into so many pieces and was such a mess. The guy we hired wasn’t as thorough as we would have liked, but he was a nice man and didn’t charge much.
The photo collage includes a few before shots and then during the demolition when things looked pretty bleak. I don’t plan on making any instructional blog posts (because I’m cutting too many corners to be worth emulating), but I’m sure to show off a few things, brag on products I may fall in love with, and vent a bit about the bad stuff (like drywall mud).
Despite the frustrations of DIY, it is coming along and I don’t regret moving here. Trailer parks don’t have the best reputation within the general public, but for me this place sure beats apartment life. There’s community if you want it, privacy if you want that. And while I’m certain high-brow parks exist, having the occasional neighbor with an old fridge in the yard takes the pressure off manicuring your own area. The only side notes I’m compelled to toss in here is if you’re browsing a mobile home for yourself, remember a broken anything is your job, relocating a trailer can cost more than buying a new (used) one so if you want leave the park, you’re more than likely selling your trailer, and they don’t increase in value the way a house does.
Random SAHM Thoughts 