like a ship at sea…


Living in a trailer is a lot like living on a boat, I find. Besides the obvious similarity in space and storage issues, there is also that matter of constant motion. The wind is literally rocking my abode at the moment, and for dramatic effect there is enough creaking and rattling for a very convincing Pirate’s of the Caribbean re-enactment. 

It really is a sea of fields and hills out here; it’s often been described as, “endless as far as the eye can see”. Remember Little House on the Prairie? If you’ve ever read it, it paints a somewhat bleak picture of the oft romanticized pioneer times on the plains. I get it now. Not even one week into living here, and I’m sure it must have seemed even more desolate (wherever their little house was) to poor Laura than it does to me now. It is still endless expanse, but it’s dotted and splotched now with oil wells, industrial sheds and man-camps. One end of my trailer looks out to the expanse, the tall grasses rolling under the wind like the waves. The other end of the trailer faces the company condos, an unassuming, eye-pleasing block of homes that houses over 60 men, but doesn’t look like it would hold more than 20. And my view from the sides? Dirt. Deep, tire-tracked dirt. (I think a bootleg garden might be in order.)

I’m actually grateful for the dirt, and those never-ending fields. Though living on a boat has always been a fantasy of mine, it is nice to step out of my wind-swayed house and drive the truck to the grocery store or to my husband’s work site to bring him lunch. Sounds silly, till you know that Sam and I have been separated by long distances almost our entire five-year relationship. The picture above is from yesterday. I can’t go to a coffee shop, the mall, or even to Target- unless I want to drive two hours or more- but I can bring my Sam lunch, and that makes me one lucky girl.

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