My mother and I were like camp followers, but she thrived on the change and the bonding with her first born and the gypsy life style. The summers were generally glorious, particularly in the northern part of Saskatchewan in the park lands. In the winter in those years, my father had much less work available to him and we lived with my grandfather and nanny in Little Britain, their roomy house on the Red River where my mother grew up.
The four years I had alone with my mother, in this fashion in the summer, linked by indissoluble bonds not connected with things; house, bed ,bicycle.TV, internet, may have left an imprint that differs from today. The stability that is supposed to be supplied according to the received wisdom that a home must be provided with all the accoutrements in place before family planning occurs, possibly today makes sense. However, a little love, a lot of attention and bonding face to face with your mother, union of mind and body over nursery rhymes, makes up for any irregular camp following, any suspected hardship that wasn't, and all the diverting stuff of today.