Woke up, sick for the second day, and there wasn't any heat. The trailer was 54 degrees and I don't know how long the heater had been blowing cold air. A trip to the propane store and I'm lugging around these tanks and trying to heft them into position in a cupboard build to just fit them. Checked my black water level and it was at 3/4 full. When the torrential downpour stopped, it was that least-favorite task of hooking up the pump, water, taping down a plastic bag over the dump tank inlet and snaking a short hose in all while mouth-breathing.
The few months I've had this trailer have had a very steep learning curve. And one day I might figure out how to light the oven and actually use it. The carpet under the massive plumbing leak at the fresh water inlet might be drying finally after three weeks. Okay, it's still a little damp. And when I remember to empty the measuring cup under the sink inlet pressure fitting, it's usually only a cup or two that's collected.
Somehow I always feel like I'm just one breakdown catastrophe away from homelessness pretty much all of the time. I'm frankly amazed any of it works. The water heater still can blister me if I put it on straight hot, the grey water drains out nicely into the pasture, the lights turn on (well most of them), the stove still lights, the microwave blows the circuit every other time I use it, and when I remember to refill the propane, the heater heats.
I am pretty worried about taking this thing on the road ever. It feels so precarious just parked here in the mud. Perhaps by the time the ground dries out, I'll have all of these kinks straightened out and will be too darn happy to test the Bitchhiker on the road. Perhaps.