Thoughts on tiny houses
The living room in my cozy cottage.
Because I live in what shouldbe described as a “spacious tiny house,” I’m curious about other tiny housesand spend way too much time looking at them online. My tiny house—I call it “thecottage”—is approximately 600 square feet, which really is spacious compared tosome. I have a postage-stamp kitchen, a bedroom that was once a parking bay fora 1920s car (skinny—there’s only one way my standard double bed will fit, in acorner, and a king or queen would never fit), a walk-in closet bigger than anyI’ve ever had (it was a tool shed in a previous existence), and a good-sizedliving area/office (I can seat seven in a pinch). Truly, it’s all the space Ineed. When I lived in the house where Jordan, Christian and Jacob are now, Iwas aware I only used the kitchen, bedroom, and my office.
My tiny kitchen deservesmention, because if I were wealthy and thought I’d be healthy and cooking foranother twenty years (unlikely) I would have a professional kitchen designercome in and tailor it for maximum use of the space and ease in cooking from aseated walker. Due to zoning restrictions, I can only have appliances that Ican plug in. Hence I have a large refrigerator, but no stove or dishwasher. Icook on an induction hot plate and a toaster oven, which means things like thatleg of lamb I crave are impossible. You know all those skillet recipes thatstart on the stovetop and finish in the oven? I have to pass right by thosetoo.
In my online prowlings, I’mnot so interested in school bus conversions, though I admire the ingenuity, andI’m not at all interested in the process. I don’t need to see one more pictureof the interior of the shell of a school bus. No, I’m more interested in thosefree-standing tiny houses. But I have several reservations, and the main one speaksto who I am and what I do for a living: most of those houses have no desk!Where do people sit to work at their computer, pay their bills, correspond withfriends, keep a calendar. Never one to read in bed (hurts my neck) or take mycomputer to the couch (I lose concentration easily), I have made my desk thecenter of my world. I spend far more than the recommended hours seated here,and I almost always eat lunch at my desk. At dinner, we in effect have assignedseating—me at my desk, Jordan at the coffee table in the barrel chair to myleft, Christian in the wing chair on the right of the table, and when he joinsus, Jacob on the couch. My desk is also nicely situated so that I have a large windowon my right and French doors straight ahead—on nice days I can almost bring theoutdoors right inside.
I have other concerns about alot of tiny houses: privacy almost goes without saying. The open sleeping isfine for one person or a couple but the loss of privacy for an intimate lifemust be a problem if there are children or guests. And that aside, loss ofprivacy, of some spot that is yours and yours alone, must be a psychologicalproblem for many. Of course, living alone, it’s no problem. I find that daily Iappreciate my privacy and, once out of the cottage, am almost always ready toreturn.
Two-story or story-and-a-halfconstruction is a great idea for a tiny house, adding a lot of space. But thatsmall space rarely leaves room for anything like a conventional staircase. Asone whose whole life has been marked by a fear of heights and general badbalance, I could never do nine out of ten of those staircases, ladders, etc. Irequire low steps and banisters on both sides. And the open sleeping lofts? I’dbeen afraid of rolling out of bed and tumbling down into the main living area. Night-timetrips to the loo would be complicated by a staircase!
When I first moved into thecottage, Jacob was about ten. I lectured long and hard about the necessity forneatness in a small space. Now, Jacob has moved on to a full social life withhis buddies, and I rarely see him in the cottage, so I can’t blame him for theclutter. The fault is solely mine, but I am no Marie Kondo. My walls arecovered with art, my tables and one big marble buffet with mementos and familypictures. Sometimes my cottage makes me think of the late nineteenth-centurycraze for miniatures. One of my sons says my cottage looks well lived in—Iwould change that to well loved. But that’s another thing that strikes me abouttiny houses—they are usually uncluttered, at least the ones se see online.Perhaps they are dressed up for a photo shoot, but they often look impersonal withsparse decorations—maybe a plant or a picture here or there, but that’s it.(That is not true for bus conversions.)
So here I am, in my semi-tiny, cluttered cottage and ever so grateful to be here. How about you? Could youlive in 600 square feet?
Part of my tiny kitchen.I frequently feed full meals to four of us
out of this kitchen.
