I can’t remember exactly how old I was when I first moved out with my sister. I can’t even find many pictures from our first place together, which is odd… I know they’re around somewhere. It was a trailer… swanky, I know. We lived together for a while and then moved into a bigger trailer – this time a much nicer double-wide, with some decent views.
I think that was one of my favorite things about living in the country – we had quiet neighbors.
Admittedly, the neighbors often woke up early on the weekends and could actually be a little rowdy. There was also the occasion when the cows would get out and use the side of the trailer as a scratching post, which if you aren’t expecting it, can be a tad startling. Hey, I was living alone at that point and it was dark – I didn’t know what was going on outside. Stupid cows.
I can’t remember how long I lived in Casa #2, but finally the high cost of living alone and paying propane bills prompted me to beg my brother to move into an apartment in town, which he did. Not nearly as much space, and not nearly as nice of a view, but I guess that’s the natural progression of things.