I'd intended to simply title this "Home Sweet Home" and post a photo of our tiny house motor home.
But this morning, we had a little adventure, so I guess I better share that, too.

The children and I are officially moved into the motor coach, which is temporarily parked at my in-laws' house - which, it turns out, is a very good thing.

Moving was exhausting, and the motor coach was filled with boxes, so last night the kids slept in my in-laws' guest room and I slept in the coach. (My hubby continues to stay at our suburban home for a few days until the new owners move in. He also, it turns out, is sick with a fever.) There were a few minor hiccups moving in, but nothing major. The solar panel stopped working, which is a bummer, but until it's fixed, we can plug into my in-laws' power. And I discovered that while in storage for a few months, my happy place - the master bedroom (well, actually, the only bedroom) - suffered some minor damage.



After all the work I put into making that room beautiful, I was sad to see this. (You can see the before and after of this room here.) But the good news is, now I can just step outside and see THIS, my new happy place:

Anyway, this morning the children and I were in the coach, unpacking. Both of them commented on the bad smell. I don't have a very good sense of smell, but when I concentrated on it, I thought it smelled like gas. I was mildly concerned, but I've sometimes found that places with gas stoves smell slightly of gas, and I didn't want to call my husband and ask about it because I thought he might still be sleeping off his fever. So I continued unpacking. Then a loud alarm sounded.

I called my husband, who confirmed it was the gas alarm.

I hustled the kids out of the coach. My hubby told me to go get his dad...forgetting his dad happened to be out of town for the day. So, with my cell phone cutting out now and then, he gave me instructions on how to turn off the gas. I'm pretty worthless when it comes to anything mechanical, and I had trouble opening the outside compartment that houses the gas valve. And when I finally did get that open, I couldn't turn the gas valve off - not for the life of me. It was too tight to even budge.

Hubby had me unplug the coach to reduce the risk of a spark that might make our tiny house explode. (!) Then he wisely got off the phone with me and called one of my in-laws' neighbors, asking him to come turn off the valve. Thank goodness for neighbors, because I'm sure it would have taken a while for emergency services to arrive out here in the woods.

The coach is now sitting with the door open, airing out. Hope no rats sneak in. Ugh.*

But we're all well and safe, and the coach is still standing. Hubby won't be able to fix it until the weekend, so we are thankful I can pop into my in-law's house to cook. And thank you, Lord, that the gas alarm works!

Now I think I will go outside and enjoy the verdant view, the sound of the birds, and the deer taking their morning walk across the yard...


* Later, I remembered I could use the screen door. Hopefully, nothing icky climbed into the coach in the meantime.