Perhaps you have or haven’t heard about this adoptee writing residency passion project of mine.

Lately, I have started referring to my origin story as my Tin Can Conception, because I was conceived in a 1952 Spartanette trailer.  “Would you like to see the place we made you?” My birth father asked shortly after our reunion. I learned my conception occurred on the bank of the San Bernard River at the Knight family camp, inside the big aluminum womb of the trailer his father had purchased back when Pop was just a boy. While Pop implied the trailer had seen plenty of action over the decades, he swore to his knowledge mine was the only creation she bore witness to.

Distracted by all things early adoption reunion, all thoughts of one day “doing something with her” dissipated as we drove off that day. Too much catching up to do. We had fishing trips to tackle, bonfires to build, and apple pies to bake. We had rounds of pool to play, bars to shut down, and trips around the dance floor to spin.

Though we did our share of reading on adoption reunion basics, we colored outside the lines quite a bit. And not before long blurry boundaries would bend, but not break, the sturdy reunion framework we had done a good job establishing. But all that is another story. A second memoir I hope to write one day under the golden glow of the Birch walls that will line the belly of this Spartan, to be tentatively named “Somebody’s Baby.” I hope others in the adoption community will write their stories here, as well; as artists in residence granted time there by the non-profit I’m envisioning.

Although, I am not independently wealthy, work a day job, and am trying to publish my memoir, things are slowly but surely coming along with the adoptee writing residency project. Two years after Pop passed, the trailer renovation is in full swing and I am full steam in the middle of choosing countertops and flooring, the right stain for wood, so she looks like she did in her glory days, getting quotes to clean up the property where she will sit.

I had the odd fortune to discover this super cool DNA code Formica countertop that now has me scratching my head and considering changing up my whole interior color scheme. It is named Pistachio Code, and with Pop’s favorite ice cream being Pistachio, and his favorite topic being DNA, I feel like he would kill me from above if I don’t do with this for the countertops. What do you ya’ll think?

Additionally, I worked with Billy my master cabinet maker on the stain for the birch walls and cabinets. Unfortunately, the method to attain the true Spartan sheen was cost-prohibitive, but I am happy with what we achieved.

BACKSTORY

Ten years ago, everything I owned burned to the ground on that exact spot. It is true everything from my adopted life burned to ash on the property of my birth father, and today I am excited to know the fire didn’t win. It burned down his rental house too, but it didn’t destroy our bond, and in many ways, it strengthened it. </p><p>The couple working on the trailer, a master carpenter and his wife an interior designer, are adoptive parents too, and the wife is a kinship adoptee. It was this synchronicity that swayed them to take my project on. I will do my best to keep the updates coming, for now, you can enjoy these pictures to follow along.