Okay, I’m picking up where I left off in my home posts. The last one had me living with my in-laws (which was more fun than a barrel of monkeys… NOT!). Once Hubby found a new job, though, a new place followed soon after.

Had I had many options, this place certainly wouldn’t have been my first choice. But it was there, and it wasn’t my in-laws’ house, so we jumped on it. It was yet another mobile home, not in as good of shape as the one we had left, but better than our first.

We had to clean it up before we moved in, but the landlords knocked off some on the rent for that. I noticed that it was drafty, but I overlooked it. Then winter set in, and it really started to suck.

It had an oil furnace which seemed to work fine, yet the heat only came out decently in the master bedroom and bathroom. Pumpkin’s room, the living room and the other bathroom stayed ice cold. The kitchen was tolerable. We told the landlords about it, but they kept putting us off and saying there was nothing wrong with it. We made it through that winter with kerosene and electric heaters, and with Pumpkin sleeping with us.

Summer came, and we gave up on getting the heat fixed, hoping we would get moved by the next winter. We didn’t, and so the whole runaround started again. The landlord finally sent some people who hadn’t a clue what they were doing to look at the furnace, and they said it was fine (which it was- it was the ductwork that needed help). We kept after him, and he finally said someone else was coming. But we couldn’t be there that day, so the landlord had to come let him in. Of course he maintained that everything was fine, even though you could see your breath in Pumpkin’s room.

I ended up getting a good job, and we saved up and bought our own mobile home. I was so glad to get out of there. But as I’ll discuss further in my next home post, it was kind of like jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.