Where are they now? - Sharkey's Housetruck

I had rather thought that I'd post a few more upbeat blog entries before launching into this, but a message from an old Bus Barn friend reminded me that this site was originally instigated by a desire to share my mobile habitation with the world. It's perhaps fitting that one of the first communications of the resurrected site would be an update of that original urge.

The truth is, for the last five-plus years, I've been living more-or-less like a 'normal' American, in a regular, framed dwelling, and not a particularly tiny one at that.

In early October of 2013, I was hospitalized with an undiagnosed respiratory infection that threatened my life. After two days in intensive care, the friend who picked me up in the big city at my discharge told me that I "Wasn't moving back into my Housetruck". For some time before that, the truck had been slowly showing signs of being taken over by various mold species. The only thing that had been keeping them at bay was keeping the interior dry by building fires in the wood stove. It was entirely possible that my illness had been caused by this mounting fungal invasion. I ended up moving into my incompletely remodeled house, and I was not all that enthusiastic about the change.

When I got my strength back enough, I moved many of the furnishings from the truck into the house, my antique desk, sofa, end tables, etc. Everything had to be wiped down with bleach water to take care of an infestation of white mold that had almost immediately begun to grow on everything.

After a couple of months, the mold had almost fully taken over the interior of the truck, it was necessary to wear protective clothing and a respirator just to enter the truck. The ceiling had partially collapsed, and water was running down the walls and saturating the floor. It is a scene of complete decrepitation. Outside, rust consumes the steel body. This truck was pretty rusty when I bought it in 1974, and I'd made several attempts to sand/seal/caulk/paint the worst of it, but sometime nature gets the upper hand.

I really had been thinking that summer of 2012 would be my last season in the truck. I'd made that, and another year as well, perhaps it was time to let it go. The strange thing was (and still is) that when I do go in the truck (not often now), I get absolutely no feeling of nostalgia or longing for living there. I was always very "up" on the housetruck lifestyle, but going back now is like looking at an old pair of worn socks, it had it's day, and that's now past.

I know that sooner or later, I'm going to have to "do something" about the truck, it can't sit here forever. Not having strong feelings for it will probably make that day easier. I'm sure the bare spot in the yard will talk to me afterwards.