A day in the life of this travel-trailer dweller is similar to a day in my life in a house, only I have a smaller space.
And crawling out of bed means jumping down from a top bunk. Nothing says “good morning” quite like bracing yourself between two smaller-than-twin-size beds and balancing yourself on top of two dog crates before lowering yourself down onto the floor.
Dogs go outside right away. There is too much morning excitement for the trailer (and me) to contain, so they’re tethered pronto.
I feed and water the chickens, sweep and vacuum every floor in the trailer, wash dishes, make coffee and burn trash. All of this is one of my favorite parts of the day.
By this time the dogs are sufficiently pissed that I’ve lived this much life without them underfoot, so I bring them inside. They eat breakfast and commence Nap #1. Skye’s usually on the leather loveseat and Tuck finds a place near my feet or in front of the door.
I work for about two or three hours and then take them outside again. They let the neighborhood know they are here to stay. I say things like, ” Hush, shut up, nobody cares, nobody needs to hear your voice, OMG, come back inside,” and Nap #2 gets underway.
I’ve been spending a fair amount of time unpacking and organizing in the afternoons. I’m avoiding my bedroom area. Right now the chaos and things thrown in every which way feels more organized than me actually sorting and putting things in place. Plus, really? I just don’t feel like it.
Yesterday at 3 a.m. I threw a rock on top of the roof followed by a planter bottom after the sun rose. Uh-huh. The wind was doing a number on the tin that covers the pull-out sections and that was my solution. Thankfully my heaving worked and I sent nothing through a window.
Speaking of windows, Tuck went to jump in the trailer last night, but the sliding glass door was closed. He was running, momentum carried him up the steps and then his whole body folded in half when he hit the door. I started laughing immediately. That’s a rule with dogs, you know. You can laugh right away. With humans you have to politely make sure there’s no injury and THEN laugh. Not in this case.
We spend the evenings planning our warmth. We strategically place the electric heaters making sure they’re plugged in in places that won’t blow breakers. I’ll usually watch a recorded football game (DirecTV followed us to the RV) and the dogs will settle in. Tuck has a hard time turning OFF his patrol routes, so I crate him when I’m tired of hearing his toenails clack on the floor. I always thank him for his service, but remind him that even working dogs need a good night’s sleep. But mostly their owners do.
I cover up with 1,000 blankets, sleep, repeat.
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