The Silver Mother Diaries: episode 6


April 5th, 2019



I overslept this morning.

Last night I cooked dinner and binge watched Netflix at a girlfriends house until almost midnight. We also killed two bottles of red wine, so I was feeling that around 4am. Needing a shower, I put my bathrobe and slippers on and trudge outside with my long stick lighter in my hand. In order to have hot water this morning, I was going to need to turn the gas back on and re-light the pilot and water heater. The gas had been off the past two nights as I grappled with the subtle scent of propane coming off the brand new stove. We’ve tried everything to solve this issue. I am finally starting to think its my oversensitive nose and sense of smell (especially around period time) and I have given into the future of the extra step in the cooking process if I want to try and keep making meals in the Silver Mother. Looks like its going to be windows open, fan on, and gas off after I’m done cooking a hot meal. We’ll get through it.

As I squatted by the pilot light with my open flame, big fat raindrops fell on my head and back. I made three rounds of bathrobe/lighter trips in and out of Silver Mother. The water was taking a while to heat up, and after my third round of testing heat levels and making sure everything was on and working, I gave into a tepid shower that sent a shriek out of me as I disrobed and stepped under the cool stream. What other options were there? I was already mildly hungover and late for work.

I get dressed – black pants, a fringe kimono, and my trusty cowboy boots.

The bathroom in the Silver Mother is 95% finished, and despite these little learnings around water heaters, the bathroom is one of my favorite sections of the trailer. A bite sized chunk of the back end of the trailer, I have a standing shower with decent water pressure, a flushing toilet, a brand new IKEA sink, two mirrors, soft lighting, and custom wood bathroom counters adorned with plants, incense, and all my feminine bathroom touches. A large window sits behind the sink, and each morning I get to stare out at the budding trees, seeing Spring come to life.

Dez Ramirez