What I'm Thankful For

I've been out of the trailer park for three months now. It's amazing how time flies! It's also amazing how much can change in such a short amount of time. The juxtaposition of living in the trailer park and living in a new apartment (and being married of course!) really gives me a lot to be thankful for. So here are my biggest "thanks" in no particular order:

HEAT
Ok, so maybe there is a particular order because this one is a biggie for me. I go to bed and wake up knowing that I will stay warm and toasty throughout the night. In the morning, I'm not shivering so actually taking my pajamas off to put on work clothes isn't torture. I hardly ever cry when I get out of bed anymore. If I do cry, it's because we have a Tempurpedic, and I'm leaving it.

WATER
Running water. Hot water. Water that doesn't freeze your skin on contact. Basically, water at a temperature that allows me to wash my hands, face, and body without whimpering. It's a blessing. And my personal hygiene is much improved. So, you're welcome.

BATHTUB/SHOWER
These days, I don't have to take a combination bath-shower, also known as a bower. I get to choose. And there's enough glorious hot water for either. If I take a bath - which, I must add, is in a GARDEN TUB THAT MY BODY FITS IN - I still have enough hot water to then shower off. It's heaven in a GARDEN TUB. Did I mention how big my bathtub was? It's human-sized. Major upgrade.

ROSS
Of course my husband is a blessing to me. We went from seeing each other once a week to EVERY DAY! We can't get enough of each other, but then again, we have about 50 years to try. It's great coming home to someone and sharing life, responsibilities, cleaning duties, pets, Netflix, DVR space, etc. with a person. A person who's great and loves me. He's seriously the best.

SPACE
Another great thing is being able to be by myself. I can get away from Ross/pets/everything and just go watch a Hallmark Christmas movie.
Side note: This one is the BEST:

Anyway, if I don't feel like being around people, I can go into my room and be alone. In the RV, it was a struggle to get away from my cat.

TV
It has been years since I had cable/satellite TV. I couldn't afford it in my old apartment, and Shady Grove's cable offerings left much to be desired. I survived off of a mobile hotspot and Netflix. On weekends, I got to go to Ross's house and catch up on shows, but during the week, it was me, Milo, my cat, and Gossip Girl (Chuck + Blair For Eva!).  Now, we have movie channels and Netflix. I always have something to watch! The first month we were here, I did nothing but watch TV. Some may call that lazy, pathetic, or even sad. I call it living the dream.

DECORATIONS
Who knew getting to personalize your space would mean so much? Since I was borrowing the RV from my in-laws (who rock by the way), and because the walls were made of questionable material, I didn't get to decorate at all. Granted, I had so little room that my stuff was over flowing onto the furniture so I always felt at home, but still I couldn't really claim anything as mine. Now, my walls are full of pictures and fun stuff. I am actually writing this from my desk (yay, space!) which is bordered by 2 walls on which I have my calendar, two canvases, a portrait collage, the letter R, a shelf of kick knacks, and a 6 opening picture frame. That's one small corner. I have a lot of stuff. And now I get to show it off.
As a side bar to this "thanks," I must add that I love candles. I was too afraid to burn any in the RV, given the lack of space or viable exits, but I have two burning right now, and my house smells like Christmas. Ahhhhhh....

LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION
Now that I don't live in the middle of nowhere, I am minutes away from fun, food, and people! Our apartment is in a great location and accessible to major highways. There are three grocery stores by us, countless restaurants, two pharmacies, several car washers/oil changers/tire fixers, a comic book store, an arcade, and even a movie theater. The theater kind of sucks, but hey, it's super close! Once I get home from work, I have options for what to do next. That's pretty nice. At the RV, once I was home, I was home. It was too far to drive somewhere else after driving an hour+ home from work. The city is where I want to be!

Well friends, since it is Thanksgiving, I need to get cooking. I'm in charge of a food item for the first time ever! These are going to be the best deviled eggs anyone has ever had! I just have to make them first...
Wishing you a very happy and safe Thanksgiving. Go Cowboys!

Don't put a frozen turkey in hot oil,
Ray

Let's Do This

Hey everyone!
I know it's been such a long time since I've written, and for that I apologize.
But what a whirlwind it's been for me!
Ross and I moved into an apartment together (which was when we realized we have way too much stuff); I started a new job (which I love and seriously hope to stay at for a long time); Ross and I got married (woo hoo! It was such a great day. I'm not exaggerating when I say that it was absolutely perfect.), and we went on our honeymoon (to Turks and Caicos which is by far the most beautiful place I've ever been, and probably ever will go)!! So, I've had a lot going on. No excuses though! I know I should've been writing the whole time, and I promise to be better at keeping a posting schedule.
I'm thinking of starting a newlywed blog, though there are so many, I'm not sure how to make mine stand out.
Other than with my impeccable wit and charm, that is...

Totally stolen from SweetOnDean.blogspot.com

So that's on the radar. Perhaps. We'll see.
For now, how about some updates?
So, Ross and I moved in together about a month before we got married. Since moving to DFW from College Station in 2011, we haven't lived closer than 45 minutes from each other. Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining about the long distance. I know a couple that dated and were engaged when they lived several states apart. So I understand, that's not really a long distance. But when we first moved up here after college (that's right folks, I'm an Aggie. WHOOP!), it was really hard adjusting to not seeing him every day. There was a time when we went a couple months without seeing one another. It was really really rough. Like, "is it worth it?" rough. We obviously stuck it out, and made a Friday night date night part of our weekly schedules to make sure we saw each other. Things got much better. Now, we finally live not only in the same town again, but in the same house! We see each other every day! It's awesome.
Oh, and I have hot water, a bath tub that fits human beings, a laundry room with no strangers in it, heat, and a full sized kitchen everything! I'll never take space for granted again.
Ross and I got married! Guys, it was super fun. We wanted it to be a lighthearted celebration, and we nailed it. We had the best officiant ever (thanks, Thomas!). We had two readings and a duet by two practically-family friends that just did AMAZING jobs. One reading was the "Mawwiage" speech from The Princess Bride, which really set the tone.

Taken from DontHateTheGeek.com. Though, you spelled it wrong, so I kinda do...

The wedding party walked in to "Here Comes the Sun" instrumental. Our best friends and siblings were standing up there with us as we said our vows. Ross's brother gave him a Ring Pop instead of my wedding band. In our recessional, this happened:

Watch The Breakfast Club if you're confused.

My dad and I danced to a song he picked, and it was so sweet. Ross and his mom danced to a medley of songs that they love (which was a surprise and awesome). Ross and my first dance was also super sweet. I fell in love with him dancing in College Station, so it's something really special that we share. The music was great; I hardly ever left the dance floor (I'm not a good hostess.). Our cake was the bomb. And I'm pretty sure everyone had a good time. 

The next day we had brunch with the fam and close friends then left for Turks and Caicos. The Turks and Caicos islands is a string of islands on the border of the Caribbean and Atlantic oceans. And it's a screensaver. Check this out: 

I took this at a stop on our kayak tour. 

We kayaked, snorkeled, scuba dove, ate fresh seafood every day, and made cool friends. We stayed on Grace Bay in Providenciales. It's been rated the best beach in the WORLD numerous times. See for yourself.

#nofilter

It was magical.

I started my job 2 weeks before we got married. After being there about a week and a half, the company threw me a wedding shower. Who does that????? I'll tell you who: a company that cares about its employees and truly takes care of them. I'm so blessed to have found this place and been given the opportunity to work for them. After my last two places of employment, I just can't believe this place. It's a dream.

So now, Ross and I are doing our day-to-day being married thing. I gotta say, I really like the guy. ;) Seriously though, I'm loving being married to the man of my dreams who makes me laugh every day. We're friends, and that's special. I know I'm lucky. 

I also know I have more stories of the trailer park to tell! Be on the lookout for the next installments soon. I wish you all the best, and thank you for sticking on this adventure with me.

God Bless Peyton Manning and his 509 touchdown passes,

Ray

"The time has come," The Walrus said...

"To talk of other things. Of RVs and trailer parks. Of meth heads and propane. Of moving out and moving on to a place on Briargrove Lane! Kaloo Kalay we'll move Sunday to a place on Briargrove Lane!"

That's right, friends. Ross and I found our first home! My last day in sunny Shady Grove is Saturday!
As I think about leaving the trailer park behind, I am of course super excited, but it's also incredibly daunting. Well, maybe daunting isn't the right word. I am simply struck with the thought that I am closing a chapter on my life. I am starting another fun, beautiful, and exciting one with Ross, but moving out of the trailer park is signaling to me that nothing will ever be the same. I'll never live alone again, and I adore my independence. I'll cook for two, buy groceries for two, and (ugh) clean for two... I'll have two pets instead of one. I'll have to share DVR space. I'll have to be consciously tidy instead of cleaning up when I finally realize the place is dirty. I'll have to make sure it's OK if I invite company over.
None of these changes are bad. They're just different. I can't wait to live with Ross and marry him. I can't wait to have a full sized kitchen again. We've already discussed splitting up the chores, so cleaning won't be like pulling teeth. I love his (our) dog Lucy, and I've missed having a dog to walk. We watch many of the same shows, so it's not like the DVR will be taken over by crap TV. He's also going to have to work at being a little cleaner because we're sharing space so that's fair. And I would like him to OK it with me if he wants his friends over, too. What if I've had a bad day? What if I just want to zone out on the couch? I could say, "Why don't you just meet them somewhere?" And he could tell me the same thing.
I'm not really freaking out, but I just know that my life is changing, and it will never be the same. I almost feel like I'm losing something, or saying goodbye to something. But that's silly because I'm gaining so much! Ross is the man of my dreams, and I want to be with him forever. I don't want to be single forever, and I certainly don't want to live in the trailer park longer than absolutely necessary. Why do I feel like I'm going to miss being out here?!

Are any other newly wed brides or even long-time wives out there that remember feeling this way? How did you handle it?

Gathering boxes and packing tape,
Ray

How to Tell if Your Neighbors are Meth Chemists

I know there are some sketchy characters that live in my 'hood, but for the most part, the only people I see are the people out grilling or enjoying the evening breeze as I run/jog/usually walk by. These are the good ol' boys and girls of lower middle class or upper lower class who are hanging up their nomad spurs in good ol' Middle of Nowhere, Texas. They have hourly jobs and kids and dogs, or their dogs are their kids, or their car is their kid...

Anyway, they're just human beings getting by, living the life of no tie-downs. I'm there with them. As much as I want a real roof over my head with shingles and everything, right now, that just isn't my life. I'm getting by. I'm making it work. And they are too.

Then there are the people that make me question how safe I truly am out here in the sticks.  Let me introduce you to stall #141 and how to tell if your neighbors are meth chemists.
1. There is a car that never moves.
Stall #141 has a Mercedes out front that never moves. In fact, the car is plugged into the RV. Through the trunk. I'm no mechanic, but the battery is under the hood, not in the trunk. Not sure what's being plugged in there or why.

2. You never see a person coming or going.
I've never seen a person at stall #141. Not a single person. Ever. They moved in after me, I guess in the dead of night (hey, we have that in common!), and for the past 6+ months, I haven't seen a person coming or going. The car never moves and the bills that get stapled to their door handle haven't moved either.
3. Electricity is on, but the lights never are.
The electricity is hooked up. They have power to the place. What are they using it for? No idea. Their lights are NEVER on. At least that I can see. So maybe no one is in there.
4. Water out, but no water in.
The weirdest thing: they have their drainage hooked up, but not their water line into the RV. They can put things down the toilet or down the sink, but they don't have running water to go with it. Cue Twilight Zone music. Oh and here's Rod Serling, my hero:

Watch The Twilight Zone. It's the best.

So here's what I think: it's a meth lab. They're cooking up a storm in there, or they have cooked it all and picked it up and will only return when they need more to sell.

What do you think is going on in Stall #141?

Hopefully nothing blows up,
Ray

Pro Pain: The Saga Continues

It was a grey day in Texas today, and that reminded me of winter when the sun went down early and I froze half the time. And I remembered a great story I hadn't shared yet. It's a doozie.
By now, you know how much I hate being cold, and how easy it was to run out of propane in the winter. Well, one cold winter's night, I am curled up in my bed under about 3 blankets and a sheet along with a personal heater in the shape of a cat watching a scary movie when I realized that I was bundled up under layers of warmth and still really cold. Fearing the worst, I got up and turned the thermostat to 80 degrees. Lo and behold, nothing happens. I'm out of propane. Go figure. Shady Grove fills propane tanks every week day for a fee, but all you have to do is unhook your tanks from the lines into your RV and set them in your driveway for the propane guys to pick up. They return them to your space full, and you can hook them up to your RV and bask in the warmth they give. So, I get my coat and boots on and go out to unhook my tanks so I don't have to do it tomorrow morning before I leave for work.
I shut the tanks off and try to unscrew them from the hose, but the collar on one of them won't budge! I wrap it in my jacket and try. It doesn't give an inch. I go back in the trailer to find a pair of gloves to use, but I can't find them anywhere. I end up grabbing a towel and trying that, but to no avail.  I'm pretty sure it's frozen shut. That sounds like a big problem to me, so I call Bob the best future-father-in-law ever to see what can be done if the collar gets frozen onto the propane tanks. It's about 9 o'clock at night, but he answers with what can only be described as an unamused tone. When I explain to him that the hose connector is frozen onto the propane tank and I can't get it off, he tells me to get that pair of gloves he left. When I tell him that I've already looked for them and can't find them, he's not too happy and gives me a little lecture about making sure I know to fill my tanks BEFORE they both run out. But, being the great future-father-in-law that he is, he offers to come out there to unhook them for me. It's a 45 minute drive for him to come out there from where he and Fran live. I tell him it's really ok, I can go one night. I said I would borrow a pair of gloves from the place I worked and unhook them tomorrow after work.
"But then you'll have to spend another night in the cold because they won't fill the tanks until the next day." He lets out a big sigh. "I'll come out there, just hold on. There better not be a pair of gloves there."
I assure him there isn't, and we hang up. Well, it is still freezing, and I have 45 minutes, so I get back under the covers and start the movie again.
I was watching You're Next, a movie about a holiday that goes terribly wrong. It was just getting good, the bad guys were trying to kill the main character and the suspense was building, when I heard a knock on the door. I was so engrossed in the film that the sound jolted me out of bed before I realized that a killer probably wouldn't knock before he busted in to murder me. Nope, Bob was here. My hero.
I open the door and tell him he almost gave me a heart attack, to which he replied, "Why are you watching a scary movie by yourself?" Good point.
He handed me a pair of gloves he brought and we head to the propane tanks. I put the gloves on and try to turn the collar on the hose. It spins easily. I look up at him (he's 6'6") with my mouth wide open.
"I tried my jacket! I tried a towel! It really wouldn't move before! Really!"

He shakes his head and lets out another sigh. "Gloves make all the difference. You really don't have any? I thought I left a pair for you."
"No, I looked. I didn't find any."
We start back towards the door of the trailer.
"If I find a pair of gloves in here, I'm kicking your ass."
I chuckled at that. Then Bob looked in a drawer I swear I had looked in, and he came up with 2 pairs of gloves. TWO.

I felt what can only be described as hilarious shame.The look he gave me... Well, let's just say I was glad he was leaving. I felt so bad, I apologized profusely and promised I would do a better job of getting my propane tanks refilled before they both ran out.
As he is walking out the door he says, "And don't watch a scary movie by yourself!"
"Don't knock on my door!"
He turns around and says, "Then deal with your own fucking propane!" and climbs in his truck.
Deep down, he's really glad I'm part of the family.


May you always find what you're looking for (before a large, angry man gives you a death stare),
Ray

I'm a Sightseeing Adventurer

Today, I went on a run. By run, I mean of course that I sprinted for 10 seconds and walked for 50 seconds for 10 minutes. I'm not a distance person. It's important to have endurance, sure, I mean you've got to be ready to outrun the zombies when the time comes, but I think you're a little crazy if you run marathons and nonsense like that. Bad ass? Yes. Crazy? Yeah, you're that too. Let's be real; the first guy that ever ran a marathon DIED. Yeah, look up your Greek history. That being said, I'll never be one of those people that enjoys running. I do, however, love going on walks. At that speed (which isn't too much slower than my long distance running speed), you can see and take in so much more. You can feel the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. It's heaven on earth. So in my running/walking-then-walking-some-more excursion, I saw some pretty great things that I didn't know about my community. Let me introduce you to Shady Grove through pictures...

The dog park

We have our very own troll bridge!

Enclosed yard with a ramp? Living the dream.

Who doesn't want a ramp?

'Merica!

These are actually weather vanes.  Cool, huh?

See that bricked walkway up to their DECK??? #fancy

These folks aren't playing around.

They have a house behind their house... No clue.

The corner lot did some landscaping. Pretty sweet!

And then there are these people who are actually my neighbors. Now, that is what's up. #Firefly

I live in a pretty cool place. My neighbors wave and say hello when they see each other. A man who didn't speak English helped me fix a machine in the workout room. (I thanked him in Spanish, and thank goodness he didn't believe I actually knew Spanish. I have a very limited vocabulary.) All in all, it's a nice community with nice people who just like the nomad lifestyle. Who came blame them? Don't we all have that adventurous spirit within us that makes us wonder what's just beyond our vision?  That makes us strive for something new, something exciting? Don't we all thirst for that? I know I do. Let's really experience life and have some stories for the grand kids. 

Stay thirsty, and take a walk,

Ray

Thank You!!!

Just want to give a shout out to all the readers: my blog has reached 1000 views! Thank you so much!
To commemorate the occasion, here's my home sweet home in all its glory:

What a Beaut'!

I was struck this weekend with the thought, "I'm about 100 days to my wedding day." It's getting real, ya'll. Some days it feels like I'll never leave this tiny house on wheels, but the clock is ticking, and I know I'll be out of here before I know it. Don't worry though! I still have plenty of stories to share about my time as a vagabond (guys, I still haven't gotten through the winter tales yet). And now I'm singing Cher's Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves... If you don't know it, look it up!
Anyway, we still have 100 days of fun left, and adventures are still being had. I'm glad you're on this journey with me because writing about it helps me keep it light. Once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this.

You really rock, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise,
-Ray

PS: I'm on Facebook at /AdventuresinTrailerParking and Instagram @adventures_in_trailer_parking

Let Them Eat Cake... Please!

The other night I had a nightmare. It was probably the worst dream I've ever had. I woke up upset, a little scared, and a little angry. I have to share with you how my dream went. 

It's the day of my wedding. It's a beautiful spring day (first clue that something is off since I'm getting married in September), and the sun is shining through the windows of my RV when I wake up. In my dream, I'm having a day wedding (not so in real life), and it turns out that I missed my alarm going off, and I've woken up late. Well the first thing I have to do is get my hair done, but the hair stylists are running later than I am! We rush to the venue (which in my dream changed to an old church in the country, not the beautiful, old hotel that the real me picked), and start getting as ready as we can before our hair is done. Time is flying by. So by the time my frantic bridesmaids, mom, and sister get to get our hair done the wedding is starting much later than it was supposed to. I also ended up with hair that looked like it just stepped off the set of a Molly Ringwald movie. 

Not cool. To top it off, the dress I'm wearing isn't my dress. It's ill-fitting, kind of raggedy, and I basically look homeless. 

But the worst thing is that with all the running late stuff, the reception was cut off. So we have the ceremony (which didn't stick out in my dream, so I'm guessing it sucked), then everyone just kind of filters out and leaves. Including Ross and me! We didn't dance. We didn't eat. We didn't get CAKE!

My beautiful buttercream-white-chocolate-raspberry-amazing cake. It's the best cake I've ever had in my real life, but my subconscious hates me and did not allow me to eat it. I guess even in my dreams I'm on a diet. Lame.

So Ross and I leave. Just leave. No grand entrance, so of course no great send-off. We just get in the car and head back to... THE HOUSE HE CURRENTLY LIVES IN.

Not only are we not going to our own first place together, but to a house that holds five people, two dogs, and a loose interpretation of the word "clean." Not a honeymoon suite by any stretch of the imagination. 

But we're not done yet. Ross plays on a competive Whirlyball team. If you don't know what Whirlyball is, Google it. Google it now. Then go play. It's so much fun! But only at the right time. When your new husband takes you to his dirty, old house and DROPS YOU OFF there saying, "I've got Whirlyball practice. I'll see you later," it is not fun. It sucks.

To recap: I was late to my wedding. My hair looked like a tornado filled with Mack trucks. My dress looked like I stole it violently off a bag lady. I didn't have a reception. I didn't have a honeymoon. I didn't even have a wedding night. And let's not forget that I never had my wedding cake either.

It's was horrible! Luckily, it was just a dream. There's no way I'll sleep in on my wedding day. I still can't sleep at night on Christmas Eve, and I know SPOILER ALERT that there is no Santa Claus. I'll be up at 4am for my 6:30pm wedding, I'm sure. There's no way we're not having a reception, and I'll be danged if I don't get a slice of my own wedding cake! 

May you always eat the cake you paid for,

Ray

PS: Are there any other brides out there that had a nightmare like this? Did your wedding turn out ok anyway?

 

The Lament of a Broke Bride

This evening I met a friend that lives close to my old apartment complex for some Zumba. That's what you do as a bride, work out. All the time. You also eat cake a lot, so really, it's a fair trade.

Anyway, since she lives by where I used to, I left work and got to drive by my old place. I got there in 20 minutes at 5:45 in Dallas. I almost cried. That could be my travel time if I didn't live out in Shady Grove. I could've been home by 6:05! 

So you can fully comprehend my suffering, I'll explain. I live so far away from civilization that people who live in DFW have never heard of it. It takes me an HOUR to get to work in the morning and another HOUR to get home. That's also on a toll road, so I pay for the experience. I haven't calculated it yet, but I bet I spend close to $10 in tolls everyday. To drive in bumper to bumper traffic both ways. So to drive by my old, wonderful, centrally located apartment 40 minutes earlier than I would ever get to Shady Grove hurt my heart a little bit. I miss that place. 

But then I think about how little I pay to live at Shady Grove (and that it's temporary). I'm consoled by the fact that my last rent bill (including water and electricity) was under $400. I'm not as broke as I could be. I'm going to pay off my credit card in 4 months (less than that if I stop buying stuff for my honeymoon). I can still go out with my friends (and not worry about bills). And most importantly, I'm not worried about paying for my wedding!

As much as I miss my old stomping grounds, I know it was the right-ish decision for me to move to Shady Grove. Plus, Ross and I will be in our own place soon enough. And who knows? We might move back towards the city. 

Here's hoping,

Ray

Cold Snap

As I said before, when it's the coldest winter you've seen in your lifetime, and you're living in a tiny "house" with literal paper walls, heating becomes paramount. Heat comes from the propane tanks that are hooked up to the trailer. They are larger than a normal propane tank that you might have for your outdoor grill, but when it's cold as a well digger's shovel outside, the heat runs constantly, and you can run out of propane very quickly. When you run out of propane, several things happen.
First, you don't want to get out of bed. Oh, yeah, the propane will ALWAYS run out in the middle of the night. You won't want to get out of bed because it's the only warm spot in your whole house.
Second, you'll get miserable and angry because you're freezing, but still have to go to work. I am not Elsa from Frozen.

You're insane.

Third, when, for reasons like procrastination or forgetfulness, you don't called the RV park office to get your propane tanks refilled, your water pipes can freeze. That means you have no water.
It's just a bad scenario all around.
Sometimes, however, you just aren't home to know your propane tanks ran out in the first place. This happened to me in March. Ross and I had gone to Aggieland, that is, College Station (WHOOP) to take our engagement photos. While we were leaving to come home on Sunday, a crazy cold front came through North Texas. We literally drove on ice for miles on the way back. When we got closer to Dallas, and road workers had spread sand on the roads, and we made better time, but a 3 hour trip took us about 5 hours total. By the time I got home, the temperatures had dropped significantly. I think it was 12 degrees out. When I park outside my trailer, I run in expecting to be greeted by a purring cat and warm, snuggly air. WRONG!
The propane tanks had run out while I was gone! This is what I came home to instead:

Icicles from my faucets and ice in the toilet. That's how cold it was inside my trailer. It makes me shudder just thinking about it. Luckily, I remembered and got my propane tanks refilled the next day and made it nice and toasty when I got home from work. Which was good because the icicles may have gotten as big as the ones outside:

Brrrrrrr!!!!

May you ALWAYS be warm when it's cold out (and procrastinate very little),
Ray

The Story of Bob and the Flood

As you know, this winter saw the lowest temperatures in history across the country. Texas was no different. Lucky me, this would be the winter I spend in a tiny place with paper thin walls. I think they are literally made of paper. Paper with a sheet of siding on the outside. Not super conducive to a warm, cozy house. However, the heating system in my RV works great. It definitely helps against the chill of winter outside. Until it runs out. If your propane runs out, you can't cook food, you can't heat water, and you can't heat your house. Your house with paper walls. Did I mention record low temperatures outside?
Thankfully, I had an electric blanket on my bed and a space heater (you know, the one I use for warm showers), so I could do ok until I got my propane tanks refilled. However, when it's freezing outside, the water also freezes. When I don't have water, I can't take a bower, I can't water my cat, and I don't have anything to drink either. Except wine. I have wine. But after a while of drinking wine every night, you get dehydrated. And when you don't have any water, are dehydrated, and only have a space heater to heat your entire house against degrees of 20 and lower (in Texas, that's SUPER DUPER COLD), you do the only thing you can do - call your soon-to-be father-in-law to come help you.
I've said before, I have the best parents-in-law ever, and it's true. When I tell Bob that my water is frozen and I don't know what to do, he and Fran come out to my RV, with sandwiches from Arby's no less, to see what they could do. When they get there, Fran and I eat our sandwiches at the table and Bob goes out to do manly stuff involving wrenches and gloves and spigots. It's taking him a while, and every now and then he comes in to ask me questions I should, but don't, know the answers to. Like, can the RV park owners thaw my hose for me? Is there a number I can call? Do they have a frozen pipe policy? Hindsight is, of course, 20/20, and I should have read the welcoming packet or the monthly newsletter Shady Grove gave me. If I had, the following wouldn't have happened.
Bob is outside again trying to turn the water off from the source so he can unhook my hose from it and thaw it out. Suddenly, Fran and I hear cursing and running water. Make that gushing water. The spigot broke off and water is spraying EVERYWHERE, mostly on Bob who is trying to shut it off. It's quickly flooding the area behind my trailer and running over to my neighbors' space. They've come out to watch the show. They probably heard Bob cursing. He's German. The man knows how to yell loud curse words. But who could blame him? It's 18 degrees and pitch black out, he's soaking wet with freezing water, and the wind is blowing hard and cold as well. Seeing how the situation has gone from a nuisance to a catastrophe, Fran and I scramble back inside to find a number to call. I finally read the bottom of my welcome flyer, and see there is in fact an emergency number listed. Yay! When I type it in my phone to call, my phone already knows the number. Turns out, it's just the main number for the trailer park. No one answers. Not cool. As we contemplate what to do next, I finally read everything on that flyer. One line says, "During freezes: if no water, do not turn handle to water spicket ,as it will break. Call office." Oops.
They are correct. It will break. And this will happen:

Fran, the cool-headed thinker that she is, says something about the owners living right next to office, and that maybe they could help. I'm anti-social enough that I put off calling the office to refill my propane tanks even though I'm cold in my own home, so I really didn't want to go tell the owners that their new tenant is making them a small pond behind my space. Especially at 10 o'clock at night. But water is still pouring out of the spigot, and we've got to do something. At least Fran went with me.
The owners were watching TV when we walked up, and I had to knock loud enough to bother their dogs for them to notice someone was at their door. When a frazzled Karen (name has been changed to protect the rude) opened the door and heard our lamenting cries, she showed no pity. "Well, you weren't supposed to do that. The handle broke, didn't it?" Me: "I guess so..." Fran: "We don't really know what to do. We've never camped in the winter before and don't really know about the pipes and hoses freezing. Water is getting everywhere. Can you turn the water off for us so we can cap it?" Karen: "No we can't. It would turn off water to the whole park." Me: "...so... What can we do?" Karen: "You'll just have a high water bill."

 

So, we left and went back to the RV. Bob is miserable. I feel terrible. And he has to go to Lowes to get a cap thingie to plug the spigot. While he's gone, Fran and I listen to the soothing sound of water flooding my neighbors stuff and wait. Soon we hear some shouting, and some cursing, but this time it's not from a tall German man, but a woman. Karen came over to inspect the damage. And I guess she saw it.

In what seemed like 15 years, Bob returns and goes to work shutting that stupid spigot off. He tells us when he come back inside that Karen griped at my neighbors for having a bunch of stuff outside their RV (you aren't supposed to store things outside, or, ya know, throw trash on the ground). She also wouldn't let them move their cars out of their parking spots and move them to the office parking lot, even though everything that was wet (so, everything) would be ice by the morning, and they may not even be able to move their cars at all by then. Yeah. Karen is a peach. Granted, this is what my neighbors' space looks like:

But really, Karen, don't we have more important things to be angry about? You're standing in 6 inches of water right now. Whatever. Bob got the water turned off, finally, and looked like he just jumped in a pool with all his clothes on. If he hadn't been shivering, it might have been comical. He and Fran left with a couple of towels, and Bob came back the next day to re-hook up my water hose to the RV. While I was at work, the RV park had fixed the spigot. Thank you. At least Bob had easy work that day. He wasn't too happy about the situation as a whole, but at least he stayed dry this time. And I had water again! It may not have been fun, but it sure was an adventure.

May you always read the fine print and stay warm and dry,

Ray

It's All Fun and Games Until the Meth Heads Show Up - Laundry Day

When I lived in my apartment, laundry was no big deal. I walked a few yards from my bedroom to the laundry closet and did load after load easily. I actually really like folding clothes too. Turn on the TV and fold, fold, fold. Very nice. Living in a trailer park however, I'm back to carrying my clothes in laundry bag over to the laundry facility (luckily this is on-site and I don't have to drive somewhere to do laundry) and washing all my clothes in one load to save time and quarters - just like the good old days back in the dorm.
At the trailer park, the laundry facility, workout room, rec room, and "library" are all connected. Yeah, library. More on that later. When you walk in, you're in the laundry room. It's got one wall of washers, one wall of dryers, and two 8ft plastic tables pushed together in the middle. Sometimes there are chairs to sit on! Passed that is the workout room, which in all honesty, is better than the one at my old apartment. Further back from there is the library and vending machines. Off to the left of that is the rec room that's only open whenever I'm not there to see it. Thursday is ladies card game night. I haven't yet attended.
The first time I did my laundry, I went on a Tuesday evening. I had finally run out of clothes. I had been putting off going to the laundry facility as long as possible. It seemed like a big 'ol boring time. Plus, clothes don't really get that dirty, right? You can wear things more than once, right?

It being a Tuesday, I figured it would be deserted since most people do their laundry on the weekends. I was looking forward to some peace and quiet as I watched TV shows on my laptop with ear buds in and waited on my clothes to wash. I don't know about you, but where (and when) I come from, ear buds in your ears mean you aren't open to having a conversation. However, in Shady Grove, that rule does not exist. When I get to the laundry room, I get my clothes going in the washer and sit down with my laptop. There are two other people doing their clothes, but one guy has his in the dryer already. He'll be gone soon. The other person was a cute little old lady (retirement village, told ya.) who was sitting and waiting on her clothes to wash too. So I sign in to Hulu after the precursory stay-away-and-don't-talk-to-me half smile to my neighbors and settle in for some Sleepy Hollow and Big Bang Theory catching up. It's easy to avoid eye contact when you have a 17 inch screen in your face, but the chairs are not comfortable, and the machines take forever to wash your clothes. I had to get up a few times to stretch my legs, and every time someone would say something to me. I'm not an unfriendly person, but I don't really feel in my comfort zone at zero dark thirty in a new place with strangers around me. Though the man now folding his tighty whities seemed safe enough, I just felt out of place talking to him about the weather. Finally, I put my clothes in the dryer. The lady was getting her clothes out of the dryer, and the man had left. While starting my clothes in the dryer, the lady strikes up a conversation with me about what I do for a living. At the time, I was working at a horse riding center for children and adults with special needs. Turns out her granddaughter has a disability, so she was very interested in learning more. It was a nice conversation. But she soon left. Finally, I was alone with the sound of a dryer in the background and that Ichabod Crane character in my ears.

You're welcome.

Since the dryers are old, it takes two cycles to actually dry your clothes in one. I was in the laundry facility really late. The cool thing about the laundry facility is that the door automatically locks, and you have to be a resident to get the code to open the door. What's not cool is that when I walk up to the laundry facility, I usually find the door like this:

I guess the old lady left the door open when she left, or the next guests were actually residents. In any case, I'm pretty sure they were high on meth. The girl had the greasy, two-toned hair of someone who stopped caring about life, was in Spongebob pajama pants and an oversized hoodie. Her companion was a guy in sweat pants, Carhart jacket, and house slippers. They came in and looked at the washers, went to the vending machines, came back and looked at the washers some more. Since I had my ear buds in, I couldn't hear much of their conversation, but then my dryer quit and I started folding clothes with my laptop off. Turns out, THEY HAD NO IDEA HOW TO WORK THE WASHING MACHINE. This couple was in their 20s, my guess is living alone there at the trailer park, and couldn't figure out that you put the quarters in here, the water comes out there, and you need some detergent in the mix at some point. How they made it through life to that point is astounding, though when I think back, it's pretty easy to guess that maybe they never washed their clothes. Ever.
They left after finally seeing how to work the machines, presumably to get some clothes to put in them, and I soon left with my very full laundry bag of clean clothes. My RV isn't too far away from the laundry/rec/work out room/library, so I didn't have too long to think about what might jump out at me in the darkness. Meth heads in pajamas are the things of nightmares in a trailer park. But I had survived to tell the tale!
The next time I did laundry there, I went in the day time.

May you always be able to avoid conversations with strangers or at least leave before the idiots arrive,
Ray

Shower Time

In an RV (or at least in mine), the hot water doesn't come on automatically. You have to flip a switch that tells the propane to heat up the water. It takes a little while for this to happen, and not a lot of water gets heated at once. When I was moving into my RV, my future in-laws warned me that my showers would need to be much shorter. Fran, my future mother-in-law recommended shaving at a separate time than when I actually showered. In my head, I was thinking, "Oh ok. So a 10 minute shower? I can do that...if I have to."
You see, I enjoy showers, and baths sometimes, very, very much. The hotter and longer, the better. I also like the air around the shower and in the bathroom to be warm so I don't freeze when I get out and dry off. Basically, I like to stay very warm in and out of the shower. In the RV, things get a little tricky.
The first time I try to shower in my new abode, I shaved in the sink first. I figured I'd be using less warm water for that than I would in the shower, so I'd be fine. Leg shaving goes well. The water was barely running, and it stayed warm the whole time. So then I turn the water on in the shower, let it get warm, and get in. It's nice at first. Perfect temperature, nice and steamy. I shampoo my hair, then put conditioner in and lather up my body. In the middle of using my little puff ball thing to dispense my body wash, I feel the water temperature start to lower. And lower. And lower. Suddenly, it goes ice cold. Literally. It's December, and the water comes from OUTSIDE.
I quickly turn it off, freezing to death with conditioner in my hair and soap all over my body. I can't very well stand there all soapy until it heats enough water for me to rinse off, so I turn the water on to the tub faucet. In my head, I just repeat over and over, "This is for Ross. This is for our wedding." I get down on my knees and put my hair under the cold cold cold cold water. That part wasn't too bad, except that my hands got cold. But I'm still covered in body wash. If you can understand how much I hate being cold, and how much I hate being cold inside my own home, you might appreciate the fact that I didn't actually cry out as I cupped my hands under the freezing water and splashed myself with it. It was reminiscent of the self-flagellation of the uber-pious monk in The Da Vinci Code. Not a good experience.

The second time I tried to shower, I thought I had learned a thing or two. I got some advice from the Wunders about how to really take a shower and not want to die at the end of it. Turns out, you can't keep the water running the entire time. So, I turn the water on, wet my body and hair, and turn the water off. I shampoo my hair, turn the water on and rinse, and then turn the water off. Then, I condition my hair and soap up my body, and turn the water back on to rinse. It's getting colder though and turns to the temperature of a penguin aquarium before I can get all the soap off of myself. Once again, I'm left feeling like I may weep from the cold and contemplating how long a person can go without bathing. I didn't even try to shave. "This is for Ross. This is for our wedding."

Finally, I have discovered how to properly clean oneself in an RV. It's actually called a bower and is a combination of a bath and shower. First, you must let the water heat for 30 minutes or more before you even try to use it. It also helps if you have a little space heater that you can use to heat the air in the bathroom. After the water heats, turn the faucet on and fill up the bath tub as much as you can with water that you (I) think is warm enough to bathe in. This usually ends up being about 2 inches of water before the water temperature starts to fall. Climb on in. The tub is small, the water is shallow, but hey, it's an adventure, right? Get a cup. Using the cup, wet your hair and body with bath tub water, and shampoo. Then, use the cup again to rinse out the shampoo. Put conditioner in your hair and stand up to bathe. It is best to do all of this as slowly as possible. After you bathe, turn on the faucet and let it get warm again, which it should, since you've been moving very slowly to give it time to heat up. Turn on the shower and rinse off completely. Then step out into the warm space-heater-heated air, clean and not wishing for death.

It is no longer a gauntlet to clean myself, though I do only shave when I visit Ross on the weekends. That may be gross in a few weeks when it warms up and I can wear shorts outside. I may go back to shaving in the sink. But I'll never shave before my bower. That's just asking for it.

May your water always be warm,

Ray

Move in Day (Night)

When it was time for me to bring my new home to its new home, my future in-laws, Ross, and I headed to their cabin property in east Texas to hook that bad boy up and roll it back north to Shady Grove. As I said before, I had never set foot in a RV. My family vacations typically revolved around hotel pools and cute antique shops, not rolling cross country in a house on wheels. I was pretty excited to check out my new "efficiency apartment." Anyone who has ever lived on or visited a farm knows that there is always work to be done, so before I could scope out my new digs, we had to do some work around the property. All day Saturday, the Wunders and I cleared fallen limbs, mowed the grass, mended fences, etc, so it wasn't until Sunday, the day we were leaving with the trailer that I actually got to go inside it.

First impression: small. Second impression: totally do-able. I do like adventure after all, and living in this small quasi-house, I was sure would make me an even stronger person... or at least give me some stories to tell. In the very least, I knew it would be an experience. While I started cleaning up my new place (it had been sitting, parked under an awning for months), the Wunders were still doing some maintenance around the cabin. With just me in the space, it seemed nicely sized. I got it all spick and span and free of mice nests in the oven (like I said, it was sitting in the country for months. All sanitized now though. We're good.), and I surveyed where I'd be living for the better part of a year.

When you first step into the RV, you're in the foyer. There is a closet to the left and the kitchen counter to your right. Take a step forward, and you're in the living room. There is a couch on the left that turns into a bed (for all the guests I can supposedly fit in it), and to the right is a "hallway" to the kitchen and dining area. Passed the kitchen is the bathroom, and passed the bathroom is the bedroom. I have a diner style booth, an oven, a microwave, a fridge and freezer combo, a shower and bath tub, and a full sized bed. All the things a girl needs. Even without the necessary closet space and dish washer, it's a pretty nice place. Interesting color scheme throughout, but hey, just because the leaf-patterned wallpaper and blue carpet doesn't particularly reflect my personality, it doesn't mean that I can't make it my own. I was feeling pretty good about my new home.

Because of all the work we still had to do around the cabin, it was very late when we left with the RV in-tow. Very late. Past midnight late. The cabin is about 2 hours from Shady Grove, so by the time we get there, it's obviously dark, in the middle of "mandatory quiet time," and we're all exhausted. When we find my RV parking spot, or my new address, Ross tries to direct his dad, Bob, into the space. The RV spaces are very close together, and the spaces aren't very big. Like I said, it's dark, it's late, we're tired. Bob and Ross try, and try, and try, to back the RV into the spot without going over into the surrounding grass, hitting the small trees that are planted there, and get the outlets on the trailer close enough to the lighthouse looking box that we need to hook it into to have electricity. Bob would start to back up, Ross would tell him to correct it somehow, Bob would over-correct or under-correct or not even see or hear Ross, and then pull forward and start all over again. And over and over again. It would've been comical had there not been a lot of cursing. Actually, it was still comical to my future mother-in-law, Fran, and I. It looked something like this:

Finally, we (meaning Bob and Ross, I was merely a bystander) got the RV in the space and hooked up to electricity. However, the furnace on the RV was broken. That means, that there was no heat in the RV. It was December. We also didn't have the right water hoses to have running water. Without the furnace, we also couldn't have hot water. None of that really worked for me, so it was decided that I would spend the night at the Wunder's and get everything fixed later. We prepare to leave the RV park and Bob tries to show me how to lock the doors to the RV. There are two doors. They are on the same side of the RV, but one goes directly to the bedroom, and it's closer to the front of the RV. The other goes into the foyer area and is at the back. I won't be using the door to the bedroom, so it will stay locked. Both doors have two locks. Each door has its own key that works both locks. One lock on the door actually locks the door and the other lock locks the handle from opening. Don't ask me why this is necessary, and don't ask Bob that either at 3 o'clock in the morning. It's not a good idea. Anyway, we're all so ready to leave. So Bob shows me how to lock the bedroom door's two locks with its key. Always lock the locking lock first, then try the handle to make sure the lock locked, then lock the handle lock. Super simple. My turn. We go to the main door, and Bob tries to show me how to lock it. The key breaks off in the door! I can't help it; I burst out laughing so hard that my neighbors (6 feet away) probably heard me. Bob gives a big sigh and rolls his head back and stomps off muttering a lot of four-letter words. Luckily, Ross gets the broken key out of the door, and we are able to lock the locking lock and the handle lock with the spare key. All locked up, exasperated, and still giggling (some of us, anyway), we pile into our cars and head home with Bob vowing that everything will be alright. He will fix the furnace, hook up my water, and get me new (stronger?) keys for my new home before I returned from my trip to visit my parents over Christmas.

After that night, I knew RV living was going to be very interesting indeed. I just didn't know how much could go wrong. I would find out soon enough though, and so will you!

May your keys never break, but if they do, may you be able to laugh about it,

Ray

Why, oh why?!

It's simple really. Money. Bills. Bucks. Benjamins. Cash. Change. Clams. Coin. Paper. Stacks. Things with which to make it rain...

Here's the back story: there I was living a happy life in a cute apartment in Dallas, Texas. My apartment complex was perfectly situated between all of my friends so that it became the gathering place. I had a nice pool. I had furniture, dishes, decor, all the good stuff. It didn't matter that I was basically living paycheck to paycheck; I had a great life.Then, what do you know, my boyfriend proposes on December 14th! Two weeks later, my lease ends. Well, instead of finding another apartment, or staying at the one I had (those jerks were raising my rent...again), my future in-laws offer me their RV to live in. Seeing as how I had never set foot in an RV, and all I knew about them were the stories of great family vacations Ross and his family went on, I thought, "well, why not?" I knew it would be small. I knew I wouldn't be able to take all of my shoes (that's the worst). I knew I wouldn't be the meeting place for all of my friends, and I knew they wouldn't come see me in a traveling trailer anyway. But I am an adventurous sort, and I saw this as an adventure! It's only until September when Ross and I move into some other wonderful place where I can have furniture and decorations. What's 9 months?

Since Ross is an expert online researcher (he once spent two days looking at and deciding on the perfect printer), he set to work to find me a cheap, clean RV park close to my work. And he found it. Shady Grove RV Park in The-Middle-of-Nowhere, North Texas. The pictures made it look incredibly cute. Quaint, but with a touch of homey-ness. Upon further inspection, I learned that it's basically a retirement village. Most of the residents are permanent. A lot people had built decks around their steps. How cute, right? They also have mandatory quiet time from 10pm to 6am. Being an old fogey at heart, this was incredibly appealing. I had found my temporary home. The rent was low. They have a laundry facility, full hook-ups (at the time, I had no idea what this meant. Now that I know, it. is. the. best. thing.), cable, a pool, and even a dog park. I would be saving so much money, I wouldn't know what to do with it (yeah, right. I'm trying to pay for a wedding. ALL my savings goes straight to vendors, but more on that later), and I'd save a ton on gas because it's closer to work than my apartment was. No more living paycheck to paycheck. No bills bearing down on me from 2 days before payday. I would have the money to pay all my bills (which were significantly less), and put a bunch in savings for our wedding. It was like a dream come true!

Was. It's not so much a dream anymore, but boy, is it an adventure! From day (more like middle of the night) one, RV living has been a bit rough. I've had some big learning experiences, and I've learned to appreciate the little things in life. Like water coming out of the faucet. Or heat. That being said, the adventure has been worth it. I'm having the wedding of my dreams, and I'm able to afford it. Plus, I'll have some amazing stories to tell my kids one day. But you'll get to hear them first! I hope you enjoy my stories of all I've learned in Adventures in Trailer Parking: Tales from the Broke Bride.

Here's to the beginning,
Ray