Sunday, 25 March 2012

Texas: Midessa Oil Patch

Monday, February 6.: Meeting the Ladies
After picking up my checked bag I wandered outdoors into the sunny afternoon at the Midland/Odessa airport. Erik pulled into the airport parking lot about the same time as I went through the doorway - which was NOT according to plan, he was supposed to have been in town at least four hours earlier to meet up with a friend. That was not to happen, for reasons which will become clear..

Having no idea in which general direction to head I was leaning against a pillar outside the entrance when I in the distance saw someone I recognised. As always any trace of nervousness fled once it was real. I was in Texas, Erik was there, and I was focused on meeting him. Quick awkward hello and hug, then off to meet the true main characters and heroines in this story: The Wagon and the KC. 

That is, a Ford 1959 Ranch Wagon and a Kozy Coach from 1952, my home for the coming week. 

We then headed for Midessa Oil Patch RV Park where we were staying the night, and parked and unhitched the trailer (with no sarcastic commentatory necessary from me, Erik was doing better than I could have, unlike the episode of backing a trailer I went through with mother just before christmas..). The evening that followed included wandering all over a Wal-Mart looking for various home-y items, getting dinner, then wandering through a Sears looking for a blanket, and tidying out the KC enough that we could move about in there and settle in for the night. I actually think Erik was more traumatised than me, since I had the mental buffer of "I am just a tourist and everything is foreign" to protect me from the insanity that was shopping. I also got to hear the FAQ about the car and trailer for the first time, as people (particularly middle-aged men) compulsively had to talk to us about them. 

And then, eventually, with some beer in my belly (Shiner Bock) it was bedtime, first night in the trailer - for both of us. 

I fell asleep while Erik was sitting by the computer still - and woke up thirty minutes later, from the sound my own teeth were making as they were clicking together. I was shivering with cold. After sluggishly considering this problem while Erik went to bed, all the while trying to keep my shivering and teeth chattering from being noticed, I realised the answer to my problem was more clothes. Thus, woollen hiking socks and a hoodie was added to my nightwear, and shortly thereafter I was asleep again. 

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