Well, we may have been true house truckers for a while there, but the moment the Gypsy Fair was over - so were we. Before you could say "It's zero degrees in this truck", we were out of there, and into the nearest hotel. Pathetic, eh. While I adore soaking up the great outdoors, I am just not hard core enough to handle the truck in Winter! We were waking up with ice on the inside of our roof for crying out loud! As the other gypsies proclaim how they would never go back to living in a house, C.P. and I sneak looks at each other, knowing that although this is fun for a while, we'd take a warm, cozy electricity filled house any day. Luckily we were the proud recipients of a hotel as a congratulatory present from C.P.'s brother, who was amazed at our decision to live in a tiny box for a year. So for three nights, we lived the fabulous life, ordering room service, dressing "fancy" and frequenting amazing restaurants. The concierge took care of parking our truck right in front of the hotel and we forgot we were ever gypsies. Except for that embarrassing moment when we had to walk past the front desk carrying a giant laundry sack destined for the local laundromat. I'm sure they wondered why we weren't using the in-house laundry service. Can't shake the gypsy spirit that easily!