Imagine you live in a large trailer park and you have four young children.
Everyone you know lives in the trailer park and they all have about the same level of income.
While the distance to her aunt's trailer was only a half dozen blocks, once the January sun had retired after its day's work, it would be a cold walk.
Behind the truck was a one-horse trailer - old, but in good condition.
Martha, who couldn't have run that fast from her trailer if she did have a decent pair of sneakers—which she didn't—was at the door, pulling a sled upon which was piled a bundle far smaller than any ten-year-old's belongings ought to represent.
Here. Hold him a minute while I park the trailer and unhitch it.
When they arrived at Jane's unit, Dean noticed the trailer was dark.
An hour after they returned home, a trailer brought the two buffalo.
One day, a tornado comes, lifts up your trailer with everyone in it, flies it around the world to the poorest nation on earth, and drops it in the middle of the village.
Hopping into the cab he turned the truck around, expertly backing the trailer into the spot she had indicated.
Electricity (hmm, I guess the trailer was solar powered), a refrigerator, air conditioning.