There’s an electric heater blowing on my feet.
The dogs are within their usual touching distance – Tuck’s in front of me on the floor with his sleepy eyes lolling into his head, but jerking into focus when I move enough for him to think I might be getting up, or changing position. Skye is positioned in her usual spot under whatever writing desk I happen to be typing on. This time it’s a travel trailer table bolted into the floor. She’s looped her lanky body around the pole, she’s sleeping, but in tune to my movements at the same time. Heaven forbid I get up. It’s always like this, even in 1,200 feet of space.
There’s enough of a chill in the room to warrant a light jacket and a slight nip on the nose. The heaters will kick into full gear and do their job soon enough. Some of you may have seen this video that I posted this morning of me breaking the news to Mom that we don’t have a working furnace. I found that out this morning when I came to pick up the keys. Our kind landlord left a couple electric heaters and we brought a couple too. Before long we’ll be cozy in here.
Mom and I were so blessed today to have such amazing friends drive from far away to help us move. We loaded the 24-foot rental truck with items bound for storage and managed to pack our vehicles with stuff we want in the trailer. I finished unloading the truck with Eric and Michael at 9 tonight and followed that with an invigorating conversation with a videographer who’s working on creating a documentary shortfilm from my Ethiopian footage.
The only thing that could have made today perfect was if I actually had known where I was going when we dropped off the 4-wheeler trailer and then when we were going to the storage unit. Mom had taken care of both those arrangements and she had to leave us prematurely this afternoon to go work, leaving me in charge of directions for both places. We turned around and drove in circles three times. These were the only times I wanted to cry. I think I said out loud in my car, “Don’t ever leave me alone to find places I’ve never been to before!” or something like that. Thankfully, thankfully, thankfully, Michael and Eric were not annoyed with my ineptness at getting to any unknown destination. Michael’s only request was that our turn-around spots be big enough for him to maneuver the truck. I tried.
So we’re here in the trailer. Our first night. I’ve blown a breaker four times by plugging in an additional heater. Fine, forget it. I’ll wear a sweatshirt and grab another blanket.
And so it begins. Our trailer life adventure.
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