It's spring, it's been raining, it's been hot, and I think it's a good time to write about the little dehumidifier I use in my tiny standy trailer--the ProBreeze 1200 Cubic Feet (150 sq ft) Electric Mini Dehumidifier.
According to the product manufacturer's website, the ProBreeze 1200 is a "compact and energy-efficient dehumidifier quickly and effectively removes damp, mould and moisture from the air. It is ideal for use in small bedrooms or bathrooms at home that are prone to damp air, window condensation or spots of mould." The unit utilizes "peltier technology (thermo-electric cooling) instead of a compressor keeping noise to a minimum," and is described as having the capacity of removing "up to 9 ounces of moisture per day."
Before I describe my experience with the ProBreeze 1200, let me explain how I use it. Here in SE Iowa, it can get pretty humid, and one of my concerns as a tiny trailer owner is that while stored on my driveway, the 5x10 trailer will get stuffy and moldy from the humidty. That's why I use the ProBreeze, to keep the trailer drier while shut up and parked at home. I don't use it while out on a camping trip. I don't use it in cold weather because freezing temperatures stops the unit's functioning.
Right now with the weather having been almost 100% humidity for several days, I've found the little dehumidifier removes about four ounces of water a day--that's with the camper closed up and the only "leak" being the port for the extension cord for land power. It's not a lot, but the inside of the camper doesn't feel or smell damp. It fits my needs.
I haven't used the unit while camping because there is a small noise to the motor which would be annoying, I think, in the camper's confined space, especially at night. If I were busy during the day, it probably wouldn't be a big deal. Another reason that I haven't used the unit while camping is that with the door opening regularly and the ceiling vent open, I think the usefulness of the unit would be compromised. I don't think the unit would be a real deterrant against condensation. I think how much moisture our bodies would add to the enclosed space, plus extra moisture if cooking was involved, would overwhelm the unit. I mean, sure, it would help, but I think controlling condensation while living in the trailer would have to be mostly a matter of venting and avoiding adding moisture to the air during high humidity. For instance, not showering or not steaming vegetables when cooking would greatly lessen moisture accumulation.
One Amazon verified purchaser of the unit, Michael Cerda, addressed some of my concerns, saying that the unit can only extract water from the air if the temperature of the internal cooling plate is lower than the dew point, so the unit works best in warm, humid conditions rather than colder temperatures. He also added his experiences with the unit while camping.
"One thing to be aware of is air leaks in your room. If fresh water-laden air is continually introduced, you won't notice a difference. In our RV, I ran a vent fan that sucked fresh humid air from the outside. This machine could not keep up because we weren't recirculating the drier air, it went outside. For best results, keep your room sealed from outside air. I'm satisfied, the unit collects water and that's water not in my air."
Here are the positive points for the ProBreeze 1200.
There is a noise, but it's really pretty quiet.
It does remove moisture.
It's not expensive, around $40.
Using the ProBreeze as one of a number of moisture reducing strategies when camping is a possibility--but one I haven't tried because my other strategies have been effective for reducing condensation in my trailer while camping. It's a nice-looking unit, though, and I always feel happy when I enter my stored camper and see the 500 ml water collection tank half full. Better the moisture in the tank than having it inside the camper and creating that "damp bathroom" feel to everything I touch.
I'm writing from my tiny trailer right now, enjoying the silence and environment, both enriched by memories of other solo camping outings saturated in tiny trailer camping solitude. The difference is that I'm still in my driveway, so the view out my window is not that of oak, hickory, and maple. Rather, it's a garden view of peas, lettuce, and the purple flowers of the chives. Not a bad view, actually.
My wife and I were going to camp some this week, setting up our trailer in the county park just outside of town, four miles from our house. However, the weather grew wetter and wetter, with the "non-raining" days (today being one of them) actually just being days of faint mist. Tomorrow will be the same, followed by a forecast of seven days of possible rain and thundershowers. Not impossible camping weather, since the temperatures are in the 50-60 degree range, but we've decided to stay at home
Another reason for staying at home is that Iowa has not only opened its campgrounds, the governor has also said the showers and restrooms will be fully open--in other words, back to normal. In my opinion, the COVID-19 numbers for the state don't support such a "back to normal" attitude because the numbers are still spiking. My wife and I will still do some camping this year, but we will still camp using the self-contained protocols. Governor Kim Reynolds, with each further opening of the state, says, "Oh, but be sure to be careful and keep your distance," but I believe the result of this experiment in opening early will be that of Sweden--yes, we'll get through it, but with many more deaths than expected.
In the meanwhile, my wife and I, and our children and grandchildren here in town, have established our safe "bubbles" of security as best we can and are living our lives looking to the future. We share some time together, are careful when we go out for food, and expect these practices will continue for some time. The governor yesterday said bars, theaters, and other public venues such as museums and zoos can open, along with some school activities. When asked why further openings were justified, the governor said that the state has the resources for an uptick in coronavirus cases, should a surge happen. She said the state's positivity rate is down, which is an odd thing to say. Locally, a 29-year-old woman had coronavirus symptoms. She sought a test at the local hospital but was denied--too young. She went to Iowa City, was tested positive and put in a room. Test kits have to be used as little as possible locally because so few are available. Of course positive-tested individual numbers are down!
So I sit in my tiny trailer, knowing that my wife and I will be camping in some of the lesser-used campgrounds when the weather is fine and it's the middle of the week (if that makes any difference with the kids out of school). Meanwhile, we have a quiet writing room, a meditation room, a playhouse for the grandkids. We're in pretty good shape. I plan to transplant my zucchini starts tomorrow, along with eggplant and cherry tomato starts.
I'll enjoy the cloudy day today and tomorrow, and keep dodging all those raindrops that I know are coming. Sometimes you just have to look at the sky and make your own decisions, never mind what those people on the TV are saying.
The Tear Droppin' Ladies' rigs, Michelle's (left) and Marlyn's (right)
Retro Reads: While camping at our local county park, my wife and I happily discovered we were camping during a Dutch oven cookoff competition--and two other tiny trailers were in attendance! We met some great people, learned a lot about cooking with Dutch ovens over charcoal, and had a great time camping and mingling with friendly campers and cooks who loved to share their knowledge. This story was originally published a year ago in May of 2019.
It was our ninth night of camping at Jefferson County Park, and it was Friday night. The next day the Dutch Oven Cookoff was to be held at the park, so we thought we might have more company . . .
And yes indeed, when we arrived at our tiny teardrop "standy" trailer from our day in town, where we had been the sole occupants of our camping area (with four other campers around the bend and over the hill at the end of the park), now all the campsites were filled. We were one-in-twelve at our neck of the woods.
All the activity was a bit dampened by the constant threat of rain, but the novelty of all the campers in a campground kept us looking and listening. Tiny trailer camping is much different than with the big rigs, but it was interesting to experience how the "other half" does it, and it was also great to see families camping together, parents and children, and to also see some set-ups where more than one family had come to spend the weekend together with people moving freely from one site to another.
Our attention was more focused, though, on two particular sites when we came back to the campground. We were set up in Space 6, and in spaces 3 and 4 were two teardrop trailers. And what about Space 5, you may wonder? Of course, a huge RV was parked there, blocking out the two tiny trailers from being with us.
We were planning on visiting our teardrop neighbors after dinner but were happy to welcome two ladies to our camp as they walked by and asked about our trailer. They were, of course, the owners of the two teardrops, Michelle and Marlyn. They had arrived and were one of the teams for the Dutch oven cookoff on Saturday. We chatted for a while about all things teardrop and also about Dutch ovens, then promised to drop by after dinner and check out their rigs.
Marlyn's Teardrop
Marlyn's teardrop (and the Green Goddess in the background, Saturday morning)
Marlyn's teardrop is a home-built that was built by a gentleman from Manchester, Iowa. It was built in 2015 and has a 1940s design. It was his seventh teardrop and is eight feet by five feet. He has since built two more. Randy owns his sixth one that resembles Marlyn's a lot but his is a 4’x8’. Marlyn says, "I took it to Ohio a couple of years ago for the National Dutch Oven Gathering. I also go to a number of teardrop rallies during the year."
Marlyn's interior (owner photo)
The interior woodwork of Marlyn's teardrop is beautiful, lovingly finished by the builder. She is fortunate to have connected with a private builder who pursues his passion with such attention to creating a solid, cozy tiny trailer. For those of us who love them, this is just eye candy. Marlyn did mention, though, that her husband won't sleep in it. Such tiny nests aren't for everyone!
Marlyn now pulls her rig with a big Ford Expedition SUV, so she has plenty of room for all her cast iron and cooking materials. A person of diverse interests, she also has a rack on top of her new black Expedition for kayaks.
Michelle's Teardrop
Michelle's teardrop (Saturday morning)
Michelle's teardrop is a Big Woody teardrop. Big Woody teardrops are home built by owners, but Big Woody provides detailed plans, kit materials, and all the support you need. Here is a description of their program from the website.
Based on the designs of the 40's and 50's, BIG WOODY CAMPERS teardrop trailers are built to provide years of enjoyment and a "look" that will turn heads, whether it's towed behind a classic car or modern vehicle. These sturdy, durable teardrop trailers are lightweight and can be pulled behind any size car. There is no need for electric brakes or extended mirrors. The "cabin" is 4' x 6' or longer, and sleeps two people comfortably. Use a futon mattress, or we can supply a custom fit mattress and cover. The rear "galley" is your "kitchen on wheels" and can be as simple or as elegant as you choose. BigWoodyCampers.com is your one-stop-shop for detailed PLANS, plus the PARTS AND ACCESSORIES you need to build your own Big Woody Teardrop Camper!
I wasn't able to get more than the outside shots of Michelle's Big Woody, but I really liked the colors of the wood stain and the overall beauty of the unit. Below are some photos of other Big Woody teardrops from the company's website, to give an idea of the galley and interior. From the website's photos, many options are available for customizing the basic teardrop plan.
The Dutch Oven Cookoff Saturday morning we made it up the hill to the cookoff area, wearing our rain gear and bringing an umbrella. We were slated for a rainy day. The cookoff participants had set up on the grass so they could anchor their pavilions. They could have set up on the asphalt, but as one participant said, "What if the winds came? Kind of hard to move with all our cast iron and coals." Good point. However, that meant the cooks slogged along, standing in mud. These were hardcore cooks, though, who believed the saying "if you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen" works just as well if you replace heat with mud.
Cooks had steel tables for their cookware and charcoal.
Harold, who patiently explained the cooking process while his stuffed pork loin cooked.
Harold uncovers the cooking pork loin for a look.
The cookoff participants were quite helpful and patient in providing information, even though they were focused on cooking. Two participants, Harold and Gordon, had competed with Marlyn and Michelle before. These guys were active in Boy Scouts and were really good at interacting and explaining outdoor Dutch oven cooking. Sandy and I wandered through the kitchens of the contestants, asking questions and observing the busy cooks, learning quite a lot.
Cooking with charcoal is easier than with wood because achieving and maintaining the desired heat is more controllable.
Dutch ovens for outdoor cooking are different than home Dutch ovens. The outdoor ovens have legs and a top that can hold coals.
Most of the cooks have metal tables to cook on so that they don't have to cook on the ground.
The charcoal is lit in a separate starter so that the coals can be added when ready, eliminating ups and downs in temperature.
Michelle and Marlyn preparing to bake their lemon bread
Our tiny trailer contestants, team Tear Dropin' Ladies, were busy preparing their entries, so Sandy and I continued scooping the loop, peering into pots, enjoying the glowing coals, and asking questions. It was a friendly group and an enjoyable day, not even the rain dampening spirits.
Michelle and Marlyn did well at the Saturday Dutch Oven Cookoff event, even though it was only the first year they had cooked together. Their cookoff entries are listed below.
4th Place, Lemon Bread
3rd Place, Dutch Letter Cheesecake
1st Place, bacon-wrapped, stuffed pork loin
Marlyn and Michelle are already thinking of recipes for next year. "Needless to say, it was so much fun cooking with Michelle. We have always competed against each other but always cheered each other on in competition."
It was Sandy and my pleasure to meet such friendly and helpful people. We learned a lot about Dutch oven cooking, but mostly we just had a fun weekend doing something different. The National Dutch Oven Gathering 2019 will be at Sunset Lakes RV Resort, Hillsdale, Illinois, on October 11-13. The site has some great photographs of beautiful food. Who knows? Sandy and I might head on over come fall! Whether we make it or not, the Tear Droppin' Ladies have assured us that tiny trailers will be well represented among the cookoff contestants.
"Our VRV Eco Flyer did amazing on some pretty technical trails!"
(Photo Matt McClellan, 2018, Teardrop Camper Adventures FB group)
I've discovered that a mechanical "symbiosis" exists in the camping community--that of Jeeps and tiny trailers. And, for me, researching this newfound topic resulted in a lot of camping eye candy. Even though I have been researching and writing articles for this blog about tiny trailer camping, I didn't put two and two together until just now that there's this Jeep/teardrop connection. Sure, I've seen photos of nice rig set-ups all along, but didn't realize there's a movement or widespread Jeep/tiny trailer lifestyle that I just wasn't aware of.
Looking back, though, I realize some of the tiny trailer owners I've tried to persuade to provide this blog information for profiles and expeditions were also Jeep owners. Usually, though, they were too busy boondocking and rock climbing to send me information.
One Jeep and tiny trailer owner that caught my eye early on was Matt McClellan of Arkansas. He took his rig out West in 2018 and found some majestic country to travel and camp in. He wasn't afraid to bring his VRV Eco Flyer along, either.
Mineral Creek area, Colorado, 2018.
Off-road camp, Colorado, 2018.
In 2019, Matt and his wife traveled out West again, this time with a Jeeping group for off-roading. They did a lot of Jeep rock crawling out there, which produced many awesome photos, and I'm sure even more awesome memories. Since I haven't lined Matt up yet for an in-depth article of his adventures, I don't know the whole story about his Jeep/tiny trailer travels.
Metal Masher, Moab, Utah, 2919.
Sunset at camp, Moab, Utah, 2019.
Drone shot of camp, Moab, Utah, 2019.
Recently, Matt and his family also manage to camp with his family during this time of the coronavirus, spending a relaxing weekend at the first of May in the Ozarks.
"Love my two-story camper." Ozarks, 2020.
"Bird's-eye view of camp," Ozarks, 2020.
Another Jeep camper enthusiast that has popped up during research is an Arizona guy named Shawn Belver. The first photo that I remember seeing is a night shot of his boondocking off-the-grid campsite. He had framed the shot so that a huge boulder arc, looking like the curve of the moon, was captured along with his camper. I commented on the photo, saying the frame made his camper look like a spacecraft, "Teardrop 1."
Shawn hasn't been a Jeep/tiny trailer owner for long, buying his T@G last year, but the Arizona climate allows for year-round camping. He says, "Can't wait to customize [his 2016 T@G]. Pulling it with my 2014 Jeep Rubicon with 6.2 L V8--can't even feel the little guy."
2016 T@G teardrop, pulled with a 2014 Jeep Rubicon.
March 2020. Verde River "String of Pearls."
It would be lazy of me as a researcher, though, to not provide a few classic photos. Even the new rigs are "classic" in the sense that Jeeps, camping, rock crawling are iconic to our American outdoors enthusiasm. However, the real "classic" also provides us with a better look at our wild and wooly past.
For instance, there's Bradley Ethington and his beautiful tow vehicle and trailer, both classics: a 1947 Kamper and a 1949 Willys. Brad and I were all set to write an owner profile when the coronavirus hit and communications broke down. We can still share his beautiful labor of love, though!
1949 Willys Jeep with a 1947 Kamper teardrop. (Photo Bradley Ethington, TCA FB group)
One reaction on the TCA group FB post to Bradley's post was from a group of vintage Jeep campers/tenters who organized a group Jeep trip to Alaska, called the "Alaska or Rust" trip, for which they created a Facebook page. The page's "About" information reads: "In 2017, to celebrate its 75th anniversary, a group of travelers from across the United States drove the entire Alaska Highway in vintage Jeeps. The trip, ‘Alaska Or Rust,’ spanned 5 days and covered over 1,500 miles. Follow along for more adventures!"
"The crew spent a good portion of the day exploring the Cabot Trail[on a later trip]."
"Alaska or Rust" traveler Bill Reiss constructed his teardrop on a military Jeep trailer frame (1966 Stevens M416). "My first trip was from Pennsylvania to Alaska in 2017, then Pennsylvania to Newfoundland & PEI this year. It’s very simple, but gets the job done. Tow Jeep is a 1965 CJ-5."
Bill Reiss, 2019. (Teardrop Camper Group)
Then there was the posting on the Teardrop Camper Adventures FB group by Tony Mckinney, who said, "Let's see those Jeeps and teardrops! Here is mine . . . " The post received 115 comments with photos, and 161 likes.
Tony Mckinney photo
Mike Whitehead photo
Laurie Caldwell Kinney photo
Rusty Rice photo
"Still have the jeep, 2002 and going strong!" (Jessy Stevenson photo)
The photos go on and on, so enjoyable to see. If you go to the group section of Facebook and search "jeeps and tiny trailers," you'll find many groups that cater to the Jeep camping crowd. One smaller public group was Jeeps, Tents, Teardrops, & Tiny Campers. Even though a smaller group, it was an active one, providing lots of information and interaction. Many of the groups are private and cater only to Jeep owners. There is even one group, JeepHERS, that is only for female Jeep enthusiasts. There are 38.5K members. Jeep enthusiasts for Iowa or Alaska? You got it! Finally, RV Jeepers brings a new wrinkle to the Jeep and camping scene--owning a big rig and pulling a Jeep for a second vehicle, not exactly tiny trailer camping, but I wanted to explore the whole spectrum!
Mike Keen photo
Russ Lawton's rig. Russ is part of the Alaska or Rust expeditions group
These photos reveal that the Jeep is a versatile vehicle and the tiny trailer is a versatile accommodation. Together, they add up to adventure! It seems Jeeps and tiny trailer owners share common values--a desire for comfort yet a close connection with the natural world, a capacity to get into the boondocks, and the frontier spirit to explore. Whether a classic rig or a new set-up, the Jeep/tiny trailer combination provides many options for travelers and campers. So the next time you see an intrepid Jeep owner pulling a tiny trailer, honk and wave at those trailblazers!
One of my "stock photos" of the field across the way from my home.
First of all, at this time with over a million people infected with COVID-19 and over 60,000 deaths in the United States, characterizing the pandemic as a good event would be the height of insensitivity. Too many people are suffering. On May 3, the Des Moines Register reported the following information about Iowa: "Nearly twice as many people have died in Iowa from COVID-19 versus influenza this season, according to information compiled from the state department of public health. And the COVID-19 deaths occurred in less than a fourth of the time."
Yet even in the reality of these times outside my window, here I am, staying at home as requested, being careful to limit my trips to the store, distancing myself from others, just like other people all over the United States and the rest of the world--and I'm healthy. There's the world event, and then there's the individual event. There's the macrocosm, and then there's the microcosm.
Right now, I'm sitting in my chair next to my woodstove. I've built a small fire to just warm the house a bit . . . and to warm my heart a bit as the sun rises this early morning. The county where I live has a low coronavirus rate at this time . . . at least the verified number of infections is low. My family and my wife and I are well, so on the microscopic value of my individual life, any "suffering" I'm experiencing is either just complaining or an empathetic response to the experience of others.
Apropos to this blog, though, I am home, unable to travel to campgrounds and camp--even local ones--and any camping I do will be from my driveway. As a tiny trailer owner on the first day of May, how can there be a "silver lining" to my camping life? The bottom line is that my camping life has been nipped in the bud this year. I've even got twelve bales of straw stacked in front of my trailer, tarped down, so I can't hook up. How can that be a good thing?
My answer is grounded in my marriage, really, and my lifelong habits of behavior. Henry David Thoreau said it around 150 years ago: "Simplify, simplify" (Walden, Chapter 2, see The Walden Project). That's what my wife and I have been doing since early March, trying to find a lifestyle that fits us and also meets the needs of the times.
This COVID-19 epidemic, then, has become a crucible where we are refining and transforming our personal lives into a more efficient existence, both physically and mentally. (That's an extravagant statement, so I have to add that we've been watching a lot of TV, too, just to keep this discussion real.) Without getting too lofty, we've just been thinking about how we can manage this new time as best we can, and we've found a few key action points.
One point of focus has been food. We've always appreciated foods cooked from fresh and unprocessed, organic ingredients. With our greater time at home, we've expanded even more our self-cooked food selections, making our meals from scratch, baking bread and chapatis, sun tea instead of colas, baking our own deserts, taking the time to make our meals not just nutritious but also beautiful. We've always stocked up with gallon jars of the basics, so we've "topped off" our victuals and are now in a good position to grocery shop once every two weeks.
This leads to the second focus: gardening. I've gardened organically for almost forty years, and this year I've had more time to focus on doing it right. I'm not able to say nowadays, "Yeah, I'll get some stuff in, and then let's go camping!" since I can't hook up and take off. My mini-greenhouse is ahead of my usual schedule, and I've done a make-over of our north garden from a wire-fenced, more traditional garden to raised beds with cedar boxes. It's been a lot of work, but I've had the time, haven't I? It's been a cool spring, so starting the garden this year has been a gradual process, one I've been enjoying, except for a chronic sore lower back from too much lifting, bending, and shovel work.
Two tiny trailers
Although my wife and I have just spent the first Saturday in May with our grandchildren here at our house, we have been spending more time together in isolation as a couple, and that has not been all bad. When the pandemic erupted in early March, our extended family pulled back and created bubbles of isolation, and we managed our extended relationships mostly by Facetime. We did as almost everyone else did and learned how to manage our relationships at a greater distance. At one point after about a month, after we and our extended family had created our bubbles of safety, we began physically interacting again. Then, after home repairs and outside workers coming were required at our children's home, we re-established our iPhone routine for two weeks, which ended last Saturday.
We have some limited "sharing of our bubbles" of safety now, knowing that the current environment is the "new norm" for probably at least the next year. Mostly, though, my wife and I spend our time alone together, and that has not been a bad thing. Rather, we are both more aware of our time alone as we are processing this change in society, which at times seems to be an almost hallucinogenic experience--like Alice in Wonderland who has fallen down the rabbit hole into a bizarre reality. We are wrestling with this new reality, and even though we at times feel emotionally beat up, we are finding a way through to meaning and purpose. We are seeing our new norm as an opportunity to enrich our relationship and to deepen our understanding and appreciation for one another. It shouldn't have been and truly wasn't necessary for a pandemic to occur for us to increase our connectedness, but we are choosing to use the situation as best we can--and have found increasing nurture and unity for ourselves in this time of distancing.
Throughout our navigating these new waters of living and lifestyle, our tiny trailer keeps popping into view--outside our north window as we look each morning at the lush field across the way and enjoy the sunrise to the east; later in the morning as I slowly straighten up to stretch out my back which is sore from garden work, leaning on my shovel and seeing the Green Goddess in the morning sun; in the evening, making sure the garage and trailer are buttoned up for the night, thinking about when I will spend a night in the trailer. I think our tiny trailer is emblematic of our hope that we will negotiate this change in lifestyle from one of naivete to one of more cautious and careful behavior. With continued care, the passage of time, and society's better scientific understanding of this novel coronavirus, we will eventually begin to camp again. We will work it out.
In a Psychology Today online article about the advantages of consciously choosing a more simple life ("Henry David Thoreau: 'Simplify, Simplify"), the author reminds us that happiness is not an object or even a person; it is a state of mind--happiness, contentment, peace. Doing less is a means to accomplishing more if we remove clutter from our lives. As an example, one way to improve the quality of a photograph is to frame the shot to emphasize the most significant detail, thereby removing what is extraneous and distracting. By simplifying, we actually enrich.
For me, I'm working on simplifying my news intake. I do feel it's important to keep current with how things are going in the world, especially with the practicalities of managing our safety. I do feel I especially need to keep current with Iowa's changing management of the virus (or lack of management). However, lately I have been doting on the news, reading too much about the medical situation and the politics of a national election year during a pandemic. "Simplify, simplify," I tell myself. Get off the phone get into the garden. Do not miss the planting time! And that doesn't mean planting gloom, doom, and spin into my consciousness. I know what I need to do and for whom I plan to vote.
The sunrise is much better for my eyes than backlit text on a phone or computer screen. That sun warms the soil for the seeds I plant; it warms my heart. I need to deal with this pandemic and the changes it has wrought in our personal lives and in the world, but I don't need to obsess about it. That's not healthy. It's not 1969, Woodstock, pills and mushrooms, Grace Slick, the Jefferson Airplane, white rabbits, et al. Our current sirens are not nearly so mythic or melodic.
Who really knows what event lies around the bend for ourselves and our families? We can be prepared, but we can also be sure to enjoy the moment, to appreciate the beauty and love in our lives, to help our families and to grow from the experience of giving. We can "simplify, simplify," and find the simple pleasures of life. Wherever we sojourn, we can all make our temporary residence more than just a point on a map. We can make it home, whether our "home" is a traditional one, or whether we are dreaming of our tiny homes on wheels.
