Poly-B is an unstable form of plastic that was phased out in the early 2000s and which, if still present in a home, will often exempt it from insurance coverage or lead to complications in getting it. Yet another shock came several weeks later during an inspection scheduled by the eventual buyers, when the inspector reported that the house has polybutylene ('poly-B') plumbing. (There is, of course, no basement at all). They called it misleading, accused us of lying because there's 'no such thing as a custom-built mobile home.' They questioned the water and sewer fees (utilities in mobile homes are shockingly affordable) and further stated that we should 'be more upfront' about the finish of the basement.

I was shocked again when, some weeks ago, our realtor received a phone call from an angry person who took issue with our listing. Even having learned this lesson young, I was still shocked when my mom recently divulged that some of my schoolmates had been forbidden from attending birthday parties at my house - forbidden from the trailer park altogether.Įrin Mick grew up in a custom-built mobile home. I started noticing how they're portrayed in movies and how others reacted when they found out where I lived. So you can imagine my confusion when, as a teen, I also started to learn about trailer parks - or, more accurately, learned what people who don't live in one think about them. Pulled on my ballet tights every week in front of my vintage vanity.

Played my Game Boy for hours in the sunny living room. Enjoyed thousands of hearty meals under this roof. How could I not? I ate stovetop popcorn and watched rented VHS tapes here. My happy youth here was underscored by the music of the prairie: crickets, coyote song, chinook winds, gentle summer rain, or sometimes, on rare, crisp winter nights, the distinct sound of nothing at all. Maple Estates Mobile Home Park is the kind of place that feels quintessentially small town: sleepy, with wide streets, lots of retired folks and many young families with kids. In this peculiar lull between the sale and my family's imminent move-out date, I find myself reflecting on the life my mother built for us here - and what it means to say goodbye to a trailer park childhood. Twenty-two years later, we are selling that beloved house because my grandmother recently moved in with my mom, and they both need more space. 'They'll drive it down on the back of a BIG truck!' said my mom.Įlsewhere turned out to be a quiet trailer park in a tiny place in southern Alberta called Picture Butte, where our custom-built, kitty vases and all, white-and-green house stands to this day.Įrin Mick, 7, pictured in her home that included the beloved kitty vases. I knew nothing about any of this, except that we had to go elsewhere, and I was thrilled to discover that we could take our beloved house with us. That mobile home sat on my family's hog farm near Innisfail, Alta., until the pork industry crashed at the turn of the millennium, forcing my family - along with many others - to start over. I fell in love with some supremely '90s cat-shaped vases on display in the office, so you can imagine my five-year-old joy when those were gifted to us with the house. We went to Triple E to pick the layout, the number of cupboards and windows, the colours and everything else. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ. This First Person article is the experience of Erin Mick who grew up in a trailer park community in Picture Butte, Alta.

Quiet times greeting card shop