Step 1: Assess your van. Realize that it is way too big from the outside yet still way too small on the inside. Consider if you have made a very expensive mistake. Realize that even if it was a mistake, you've already committed to this and that you have too much pride to call it quits. Plus, despite the pang of intimidation, you also are intrigued and excited.
Step 2: Practice driving. You're pleasantly surprised that the driving part is easier than expected; sitting so high up gives the illusion that you have pretty good visibility, plus you can see a decent amount out of the back windows. Realize those back windows won't be accessible once you've added in all of the furniture. To compensate, putting in the floors, walls, and furniture will tamper down the loud echoey sounds that make it seem like you are constantly driving through a cave.
Step 3: Practice parking. This is particularly tricky since the pop-up canopy you've bought is probably too short. Make your partner hop out of the van to guide you in and silently curse the whole time that there is no way this mammoth is going to fit in between the narrow set of poles you've set up. Surprisingly, it fits! Hope that you are not the one driving it next so you don't have to then back it out of that impossible parking space. Console yourself that if you are, then at least there's a built-in 360°camera to assist. Internally promise yourself that if you run over the new flowers you planted to not get mad; they are a small sacrifice.
Step 4: Insulation. Watch the video Havelock Wool put together on how to properly insulate your van. Start tearing off puffs of wool to fill in the nooks and crannies. Get snippy because you partner tells you you've over stuffed, but then retort that he has under stuffed. Start filling in the scantily filled holes he's left because you realize that's the side of the van you will be sleeping on, and you don't want to be cold at night. Continue to pad out the walls until the entire thing looks like the inside of an uncleaned lint trap.
Step 5: Cardboard models. Review the blueprint you've been developing for months and compare it to the real thing. Try to match your chicken scratch to the real measurements. Tape up cardboard sheets to mark the boarders of the "kitchen," "bathroom," and "bedroom." Reassess after realizing that the remaining pathway to get between each "room" is far too narrow. Consider how much counter space you really need and come to the conclusion that you can shave off a few inches of depth. Remind yourself multiple times that the cardboard models are bigger than the real thing, since in reality the boarder of your materials will be closer to 1.5 inches rather than the few millimeters of thickness your cardboard presents.
Step 6: Ask, "what's missing?" You sarcastically respond to yourself "well, everything. It's just a metal box filled with cardboard. Even a very imaginative six-year-old would struggle to picture this as a livable home." In reality though, you realize the original plan for the work and eating spaces may not be practical. The swivel seats are further removed from the main living space, and the seats also are quite high up. Start to think up practical solutions for how that can be rectified. Be grateful that this was discovered early on and that you have ample time to make modifications.
Step 7: Cut out cardboard floor plans while watching cycle 20 of America's Next Top Model (after all, you just realized it was added to Netflix). Praise yourself at how clever your improvised tool of sticking a marker through a sewing spool clamp works at allowing you to trace around the edges. Keep telling yourself that you probably just need one more cut, but know that you are lying to yourself because you said that two episodes ago. After three full episodes, admire how sung of a fit you got, and then dread the moment where you will use that cardboard cutout as your template for cutting the real-deal insulation foam and flooring.
Step 8: Make a trip to Home Depot. You need bigger cardboard sheets, automotive primer, insulation primer, silicone sealant, plywood, anti-rust spray, specialty tape, and many other things that you've never used before. Groan, because you realize that you need to drive the van, which means the challenging backing out. Become slightly overwhelmed at the knowledge that this is one of many Home Depot trips to come. You could continue to order from HD online, but it's almost more overwhelming having a new large heavy mystery box get delivered to your house every day.
Step 9: Build out a model bed frame. The bed is the biggest piece of furniture and the measurements of it determine the true workable space for everything else. To do this, you learn to use a jigsaw to cut out the very splintery 2"x2"s. Make the decision that you should order the aluminum rails at the exact measurements because if you're in charge of any cutting, they will not be precision cuts. After placing the wooden sample frame in the van, award yourself with a half smile and a sigh of relief since because you're actually doing this, and the space doesn't seem too tiny (yet).
Step 10: Warn your partner to read this blog post with a grain of salt. Although you sound really critical and grumpy, you're actually really pleased that the two of you are doing this. Make the a joke (admittedly in poor form) that this is way better than having a baby, because there're no guarantees that a baby will be perfect but you can do a lot of things to help ensure your van is perfect...and a van costs less than a baby does. Then wonder to yourself which is more environmentally damaging, driving a diesel van for tens of thousands of miles in a year or adding an extra human to the world. Uh oh, driving a Sprinter van 100,000 miles equates to about twice as big of a carbon footprint as an American does in their lifetime.
No comments:
Post a Comment