Trailer Trash

We all give the trailer at Bear Lake a hard time... it's old. It's a bit white trashy. You wouldn't believe it sits on pristine beach front property. And we all wish my grandpa would just plow it over and build a cabin. But hey, it wouldn't be Bear Lake without it. So rather than complain this time about not having anywhere to sit down or sleep comfortably - ok I so I complained a lot when it started to pour, lightning, and howl on Friday when all 30+ of us tried cramming into the old trailer, my parent's trailer, and my grandpa's motor home to eat dinner - I decided I'd take some pictures of the random things that make Bear Lake, Bear Lake. I made it a goal to not take a gazillion pictures of the hollyhocks (although you get a few here), beach, shells, or the clothes line but the stuff we make fun of and yet will never forget either. I mean, I think I post pictures of our Bear Lake trips at least three times each summer on my blog (here, here, here, and here) if you want more pictures but it's these ones that I'm pretty sure no one ever sees or pays attention to. It's all stuff my grandma never uses but can't part with. Remember this post? Someday, when we finally do get to plow over the trailer for something nicer, I hope all these pictures make me laugh. I know for sure they'll make me remember Bear Lake. Between a sick kid, nursing baby, the beach, and shopping at the craft fair, I didn't quite finish my project of documenting the little things that make Bear Lake unique. Hopefully next time. But you'll get the idea. And you know what? When I really stopped to look at all this stuff we complain about and make fun of, it's beautiful.

The sliver-loaded steps in front of the shed.
Some stuff from the shed. A storage container thing - I'm sure loaded to the gills with random plastic bags, foam, and who knows what else - and the original "bob cat." Trash cans next to the trailer with our rock collection on top to keep the raccoons, skunks, and ravens out of the garbage. Sometimes it works. These next items bring fear into any grandchild. The dreaded washing out of the sand with the hose. Grandpa always shoved the hose down our swimming suits and made us stand there, screaming about the freezing water, until he couldn't see anymore sand coming out. It was traumatizing. I still shudder when I see the water pump.
The stepping stone right next to the dreaded hose.Grandma's plant and rock collection. License plate and stickers on the trailer. It's old... at least 40 years.
I'm honestly shocked that no one has been killed on these steps.
About to enter the trailer. Real secure door, huh? It's been broken like this for as long as I can remember. Slightly scary since it's razor sharp.Rocks keeping the windows open. An obvious safety violation!
Once inside, you'll find a plethora of random items. Like framed cartoons (if you know my grandma you'll understand her obsession with newspaper clippings... this being one of them), fingernail clippers, magazines from the 1970s, "fakies" keeping the cold air out from the broken window, odds and ends holding pencils, a black and white TV that has I believe at last count three working channels, a gas oven that you should NEVER light, insect repellent and sunscreen that would probably eat away your skin at this point, and grandpa's hats.
We almost lost the hollyhocks this year. They came from seeds out of my great-grandma's yard in Panaca, NV and mean a lot to my grandma. She was so happy to see the original colors back and made sure I took a picture of each of them. White, light pink, medium pink, dark pink, red, and a purplely color.
The bathroom. Basically the only reason we keep using the trailer. It's cramped but holds a fair amount of junk itself. And unless you know the trick to locking the door (I do!) you might get to know someone better than you had hoped for! Sorry Kurtis!
So glad my dad fixed the light switch... peeing in the dark in that tiny, crowded room is dangerous! The springs on the bed, at least that's what I've been told it was, outside in front of the trailer... which my grandma insists is still good with a little foam thrown on top of it. I guess the weekend my parents got engaged, my dad was booted to this thing for the night. We usually have the turquoise blankets hanging up, but my grandma decided after 20 years they needed to be washed. They make great beach towels!And last but not least, my favorite picture of the weekend. My grandma's checklist. It's so grandma to have a list of things we're supposed to check before we leave. And her handwriting is truly beautiful. It's what makes Bear Lake, well Bear Lake.