The Silver Mother Diaries: episode 4

Tonight, the Silver Mother and I are having a rough night. Silver Mother is the name I gave the trailer, because she’s big, and silver, and she’s a she.

Its 10:45pm on a Monday and there has been a propane leak inside the trailer all day. We can’t seem to figure out where the leak is coming from, but the pattern goes something like this: I cook dinner on a Sunday night and meal prep my food for the week. I use two of the four propane powered gas burners for a little under an hour to make my dishes. I eat, I wash dishes, and I wake up in the morning with a propane hangover, which consists of a wicked headache and feeling (bad) high at work most of the day.

It had been a challenge this last month mastering cooking full dinners in the tiny kitchen, but as a gluten free-I-have-to-take-a-lunch-to-work-everyday person (mostly because my job is located in nowhere land with no market or decent lunch spot nearby) I prioritized it. The kitchen is stocked, and I have managed to fit cookbooks, dishes, coffee, spices, oils, prized coffee mugs, my dutch oven, and all the fixings into it, everything in its right place. I even have a corner section wet bar with my whiskey, martini station, and bottles of red. Its been going well, and is incredibly satisfying to cook and drink in the Silver Mother.

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Over the past month, I’ve woken up with four propane hangovers, my dog and I huffing the leak while we sleep. Where the fuck is this leak?! My dear friends and landlords have scrambled to order a new stove (and oven!) unit, and they offer me their own kitchen to cook in the meanwhile. Tonight, I finished my work day at 6pm, and then started my evening shift as a freelance journalist and producer at 7pm. I’m tired, hungry, and have a fridge full of food to cook. I also have an editorial deadline looming that will keep me up until midnight at the very least. The kitchen window and fan have been open and on for the past few hours, but it still smells like gas. Guess I’m settling for a cold dinner tonight. Who knows what could happen if I open flame right now!? I prep an arugula salad with fresh sliced tomatoes and soft mozzarella cheese on top with a drizzle of olive oil and balsamic.  

I ditch the huffing post and the dog and I take shelter in the main house for a bit as I wait for my friends (and Airstream owners) to get home and turn the stove off (because I have no idea how to do this yet). Shoving bites of my caprese salad in my mouth, I try to find the will power to keep writing and file my story tonight. I’m still in my work clothes – cowboy boots and a puffy jacket. I long to wash my face and put my beloved sweat pants on soon. Sleep sounds incredible, but so far away.

Dez Ramirez