tiny houses

Maintaining the Little Life

my little dining nook & pantry In September I marked A Year of Little Living by Downsizing from a Tiny House to a Tinier House. When I moved into a 113 square foot yurt I embarked upon My 200 Things Challenge. I've continued to learn a lot about simple living through these adventures. So now as 2012 winds down, I figured it's time to reevaluate.

As I moved my belongings out of the tiny house into My Summer Garden Cottage and then into my Home, Sweet Yurt, I had an opportunity to critically evaluate my possessions. When I began the process of downsizing a year and a half ago so that I could move into a tiny house on wheels, I was very intentional about choosing which possessions I would bring with me and what activities I would do. I knew I'd be busy studying for my Masters of Urban and Regional Planning, so I figured I'd need my very small collection of design reference books, my office supplies, and my laptop computer. I knew I wouldn't have as much time to cook or as much space to host dinner parties, but a well-stocked kitchen was important to me, even in a tiny house. And, of course, my clothes and bedding would be essential. Special things I brought along included my craft supplies, decorations, and scrapbooks. I rented out my two-bedroom bungalow in Walla Walla partially furnished and stored four boxes in a friend's basement.

in storage: four boxes and my food dehydrator

I’ve never enjoyed shopping much so I didn’t have to give that up when I moved into a tiny house. But I do have a hard time turning down a good deal (especially free!) so this year I’ve had to be more intentional about not letting anything into my life that I don’t either know to be useful or believe to be beautiful. As I’ve thought about my consumption patterns I realize that I usually pick household items that I enjoy using. Good tools – like an impact driver that fits well in my small hands and flatware that has nice balance – make the task more enjoyable (and eating and building are pretty great anyhow!) So I insist upon comfy shoes and cozy coats... and delicious healthy food for that matter. Focusing on high quality things, whether durable or consumable, seems to really increase my quality of life, and that's invaluable. Some household things I consider essentials (such as sharp knives, a warm blanket, a comfy mattress). Others household things – like a set of candleholders and a pretty wooden salad bowl – aren’t necessities, but I think they make my house my home.

my kitchen chicken rooting in my kitchen cupboard

I haven’t acquired much over the past year. It helped that there simply wasn’t much room to store new things. My acquisitions were mostly things to support my Little Life: a drinking water quality hose, a Kill-A-Watt electricity meter, an Envi Heater, a utility bike with a rack for grocery-getting, and a speedier road bike for longer distances. I've been gifted a few things this past year, too, and fortunately most people have been very conscientious in their gifting. The items have been very special things that are worth counting, including some air plants (these are so cool!) and a my kitchen chicken (a clay sculpture, courtesy of my talented 10 year old cousin Baeven). Thanks to grad school I also seem to have collected more paperwork, too, but I’ll be Getting All My Docs in a Row sometime soon. So all things considered I've done pretty well at maintaining a Little Life.

In the next couple days I'll do a New Year's Re-Inventory to see where I stand with My 200 Things Challenge. Stay tuned for the update!

Strategizing Digitizing

My New Year’s resolution is to go digital so I’m getting ready for it. I tend to be one of those uber organized people who keeps important paperwork all categorized and in one place. On (approximately) a monthly basis I sort new paperwork I’ve acquired, file the important documents, and recycle everything that’s not compostable and then shred and compost everything I can. I began acquiring important paperwork as a teenager, so for the past fifteen years, every time I’ve moved, I’ve hauled around a Tupperware tote of paperwork. Over time I replaced it with larger and larger totes. Eventually I added a second one. I’m now the not-so-proud owner of three large totes of paperwork. As this post from Life Edited explains, even for us minimalists, it’s hard to downsize those Little Pieces of Important Paper. They might actually be… important!

But they don’t need to take up so much physical and mental space. I can certainly imagine how nice it would be to be paper-free. Wouldn’t it be convenient to have any document I need available just by doing a quick keyword search on my computer? Wouldn’t it be a relief to not have Little Pieces of Important Paper taking up physical space, time, and attention?

I hate that these totes are 3 of my 200 things. So I’ve made the decision to go all-digital. This will involve three big steps:

1)   First I’ll organize all the documents that are already in a digital format.

2)   Next I’ll begin digitizing any new documents that I acquire. I’ll get in the habit of scanning anything that’s important and shredding anything that’s not, so that they don’t pile up.

3)   Then I’ll scan my totes of paper documents so that I can eliminate Little Pieces of Important Paper from my life entirely.

Eventually, I’ll also scan old journals, too, so that I’m no longer lugging around that giant tub of paper and ink. This, I realize is a larger project and one that will involve some emotional energy as well as time. Speaking of which, I’ve set aside some time this week to tackle the first step by organizing my electronic files. You might call it Getting All My Docs in a Row.

Just Stuff

sister's quilt
sister's quilt

This time of year, as we consider what we are thankful for, I realize that this year I’m grateful that my relationship with stuff has shifted to make more room for people. To help you understand what I mean, let’s peek back in time…

When I was six years old we lived on Fremont Avenue in Seattle in an apartment that was created when a big historic home was subdivided. Whenever I took my bath in the claw-foot tub my mother would rinse my hair with her beloved clay pitcher. The pitcher was a lovely shade of pale blue-green with ochre accents. It was handmade by a professional potter and Mommy said it felt right in her hands. I could tell she appreciated the sensory experience of scooping warm water up with the pitcher and pouring it over my hair, shielding my eyes with her other hand. The pitcher had a special spot on stool next to the tub.

One evening when I climbed into my bubble bath Mommy told me she was going to make a phone call. She told me to holler when I was ready for help rinsing my hair. I’d recently entered kindergarten and as I learned what my peers were doing on their own I began trying my independence, attempting to do more things on my own. So I decided to rinse my own hair with Mommy’s special pitcher. So after washing my hair I stood up in the tub and reached over for the beautiful ceramic pitcher. It felt good in my hands, too. It was the perfect combination of smooth glaze and rippled edges, with a thick curved handle. I sat down carefully, clutching the pitcher with both hands and filled it with warm, soapy water. I tipped my head back to pour the warm water over my hair, but the pitcher was heavy and slippery and as a counter weight above my head it sent me shooting forwards in the tub with a squeal.

When the beautiful pitcher hit the back of the claw-foot tub, it broke into a dozen pieces and the water it contained splashed across the bathroom wall and floor. I burst into tears, clambered out of the tub, and began picking up the pieces. Mommy hurried into the bathroom and saw me there sobbing, holding the pieces of the broken pitcher in my tiny outstretched hands, water across every surface. She pulled me close and asked if I was okay. I kept crying, so disappointed with myself that in my attempt to be grown up and do something by myself I’d broken the pitcher she loved so much. My mother checked me over to see if my tears were an indicator of pain. When she realized I wasn’t physically hurt she clucked and shushed me until I could talk again.

“Why the tears?” she finally asked when I’d settled back down to a whimper.

I wailed: “You’re gonna be mad at me for breaking your favorite pitcher!”

“Oh, honey,” she said. “I’m disappointed the pitcher is broken, because I enjoyed using it. But I’m not going to be mad. The pitcher is just a thing. You’re much more important to me than a thing. I’m glad you’re okay.”

I’ve thought about this moment many times over the years, always a little in awe that my mother was so nonchalant about the broken pitcher. I think I’ve always been more materialistic than her. We moved around a lot when I was a kid and my things were very important to me because they helped to make each new and different place feel a little bit like home. I was especially attached to things that were one-of-a-kind and seemingly irreplaceable, like Mommy’s pitcher.

But recently I’ve begun to understand Mommy’s perspective better. The past year of living the Little Life has changed my relationship with material possessions. The downsizing process was difficult for me. It was emotionally exhausting and time consuming as I decided what objects I cherished and which I could live without. It was also a logic puzzle as I selected the objects that would be most important and functional in a small space. However, as I learned to let go of things that didn’t matter much to me I found that even my attachments to things I really love have loosened up. These days I’m more willing to loan things out and let things go.

Of course, there are some items that are truly irreplaceable. I would be disappointed if I broke the clay chicken my cousin gave me for Christmas and I'll be bummed when the quilt my sister made me becomes threadbare. But these are just things. I’ve come to realize that if I wear out a clothing item or break a dish I can replace it with something else that I like. Chances are it won’t be exactly the same, but that’s okay. I take good care of the things I own but I now recognize that objects have a lifespan, just like living things. Things will come into and leave my life the way people do. But now I really recognize that it’s the people who matter. The stuff is just stuff.

Battening Down the Hatches

As the temperature drops I’ve been slowly cranking my heater up notch by notch. It’s been a wet and chilly week with temperatures in the high 30s to low 50s. Portland has a mild climate and I know it won’t get much colder, but I don’t like that I’m already at the 6th of 10 notches on my Envi Heater. I’d like to wait till winter really hits to have to crank it up again until we hit the coldest days. Weatherizing the yurt is a matter of both saving energy and being more comfortable.

My lessons in building science have taught me that heat transfer happens in 3 ways: conduction, convection, and radiation. In really simple terms, I think of it this way: conductive heat losses occur through the solid, opaque materials of the building’s envelope, radiant heat losses occur through the transparent materials like the oculus and the windows, and convective heat losses occur through the gaps between materials.

I decided to tackle conductive heat losses first. Heat travels from warm to cold so the heat that my Envi Heater produces will transfer through the solid materials that make up the yurt’s envelope: the wooden door, the plywood floor, the vinyl tent. The yurt has virtually no insulation so the conductive heat loss potential is high. It’s a glorified tent and the only insulation is a bubble wrap material that lines the walls, creating lots of little air pockets which slows heat transfer. The floor isn't insulated at all. The bubble wrap that lines the walls provides some insulation as do the rugs on the floor. But it’s not much. There’s really not a practical way to add insulation to the walls because of their curve. It would be possible to insulate the floor and the ceiling, too, but since I don’t own the yurt I don’t have much incentive to invest in comprehensive insulation. Instead I will tackle weatherizing on the other two fronts. This is a very small space, so even if I don’t have much insulation to prevent conductive heat transfer I can still take steps to reduce radiant and convective heat transfer.

Radiant heat loss occurs when something warm gives off heat to something cold. It relies on direct lines of sight. If you can see a cold object you’re giving up heat to it. This often occurs through windows. I’m sure you’ve had the experience of sitting on a stone bench or standing next to a window on a cold day and feeling like the heat is being sucked out of you. It actually is! So closing the drapes at night really can help keep the house warmer. Putting something between you and the stone bench can help your tush not go numb from cold. I had already closed up the yurt’s windows a few weeks ago, thereby reducing my radiant losses. But I could tell that windows were a weak spot in my thermal envelope. There was no insulation here to prevent conductive losses. So I bought a roll of bubble wrap insulation for $20 and cut covers for the two windows to prevent conductive heat transfer through the vinyl window cover and the fabric of the tent flap that covers the windows. Now that the windows are closed, my only natural light comes through the oculus so I’ve been hesitant to create a cover for it. However, I realize that it’s the spot where heat is most likely to radiate to the sky. When it gets really cold, I’ll need to address this and I’ll tackle my remaining radiant heat losses then.

In the meantime, I turned my attention to convective heat losses. This is where air sealing comes in. I’ve noticed that there are spots where I can feel the cold air at the seams. The yurt has seams where the floor meets the walls, where the walls meet the roof, and around the windows and the door. I plan to seal these seams so that warm air has a harder time slipping through the cracks. However, today I tackled the obvious leaks. First, I realized I’d left the oculus open just a crack, so I decided to close it up all the way on these cold days. I can always open it whenever I need to air the yurt out, but keeping it closed on cold days (and especially cold nights) will help keep the yurt warmer. I also put rubber weather stripping around the doorframe so that when the door is closed I can no longer see daylight around the perimeter. I need to be sure to pull the door closed tightly now, but it does seem to be helping.

This evening it’s much warmer in the yurt, so I’ve turned the heater back down to the second notch. I’m not sure if it’s actually warmer outside tonight or if these little weatherization projects are already paying off, but it’s very cozy in here tonight!

Little Life Captured Tall & Skinny

Last spring Hannah Doyle, a journalism student at the University of Oregon, interviewed Brittany Yunker and me for a story she was writing for OR Magazine. OR Magazine is an annual publication that captures the uniqueness of Oregonians. The format of OR Magazine is really unique, very tall and skinny, because it is published in an iPad format. Just zoom in to read the article. Hannah shared the Living with Less story with me and I wanted to share it with you.

You can read it right here: Living with Less. Enjoy!

 

Electing Simplicity, Sanity, & Smallness

Happy Election Day, everyone! I walked my ballot down to the post office this morning. This evening I'll be gathering with my classmates to watch the election results roll in. I'm honored I was able to vote on initiatives that will make my state and my country places which I can be proud to call home.

It turns out I'm a conservative. I'm all about conserving time, energy, money, resources and talent so that they can be used constructively rather than squandered. That's why I've chosen the Little Life: a small, simple home, active transportation by bike, foot, transit, and car share, and an education that is helping me to create sustainable communities. This enables me to be more liberal with my time, money, and energy for the causes and people I believe in.

 

I think of Election Day as a chance to consider what we stand for, what we elect in our own daily lives. I hereby elect the following:

  • The right to live in a small, simple space that suits my needs
  • Deliberate and conscientious spending on practical necessities and little joys
  • Freedom from consumerist chaos and unnecessary financial burdens
  • Connection with an incredible network of curious and passionate people
  • Time to visit with the people I hold dear (even if it's via skype and text because of the geographic distance between us)
  • Prioritization of my physical, emotional, and mental health
  • Engagement with the outdoors and my neighborhood

What are you electing to have in your life during this cycle?

Build it Tiny Workshop on Saturday, 11/10

PAD Tiny House Workshops Dee Williams's tiny house design and consulting company Portland Alternative Dwellings will be hosting a Build it Tiny Workshop on Saturday, November 10, 2012. I attended on of PAD's workshops in June of 2011 and it was a fantastic experience. If you're interested in tiny houses and would like to learn from a tiny house guru, I strongly recommend you attend!

Here's more info:

This workshop will focus on tiny house planning and design considerations and particularly on the 'sticky wickets' of code restrictions, insurance, wastewater/water, and siting. We’ll provide case studies, first-hand knowledge and an opportunity to learn from experts and pioneers in the Tiny House Movement. You’ll meet other like-minded tiny house enthusiasts and find out what they are dreaming up. We'll tour a tiny house in a pocket community after the workshop. The class size is limited, so sign up soon. For more information about PAD visit our website: http://padtinyhouses.com

Saturday, November 10th 9am-4pm  (5:30-7pm Tiny House Tour) Historic Kenton Firehouse 2209 N. Schofield, Portland, OR 97217 Registration online: $175

Build Small was BIG!

The first ever Build Small, Live Large Summit was a big success! Approximately 300 people attended the conference on Friday, October 26th at Portland State University, which was hosted by Cascadia Green Building Council.

As Jordan Palmeri introduced the summit he described the DEQ study that showed building small is our single greatest green building strategy. Jordan explained that the study results inspired the Accessory Dwellings website and formation of the Space Efficient Housing Workgroup, which includes folks like Eli Spevak of Orange Splot and Kol Peterson of PDX ADU. I've been privileged to be part of this group for the past year as we've discussed ways to mainstream small as a sustainability strategy. Coordinating the Build Small, Live Large Summit was a big step in the right direction.

Ross Chapin presented a fantastic keynote address about how pocket neighborhoods have caught on as people seek a balance of community and a little place of their own. The rest of the sessions addressed challenges to building small, financing small spaces, and design tricks for maximizing small spaces.

I was delighted to be among the presenters as I shared the stage with Derin Williams of UrbaNest Northwest and Dee Williams of Portland Alternative Dwelling for the Biggie Smalls: The Notorious Tiny House session, which explored radical smallness. We had a great time sharing our stories and responding to the audiences questions and comments.

You can sign up for meeting notifications of Oregon DEQ’s Space Efficient Housing Workgroup by sending an email indicating your interest to Jordan Palmeri. You can also read Kol's perspective on the Summit in his blog post on the Accessory Dwellings website.

Three cheers for small houses! Hip, hip, hooray!

A Month in the Yurt

This weekend marks one month of yurt living. I’ve figured out my systems and routines for this little place, but even more, I’ve decorated and started to meet some neighbors, so now it’s feeling like home. The skylight is still my favorite part, though there’s a ripe fig that’s taunting me. I’ve managed to enjoy many other figs since moving into the yurt, but this big, ripe purple fig is hanging overhead, visible through the skylight but just out of my reach. So alluring and so alluding!

Now that the weather is getting chillier – it was 38 degrees last night – people have been asking me how it’s going, living in the yurt. I tell them it’s been great! I have noticed the dropping temps, but so far it’s been very comfortable still. I lived in Eastern Washington for ten years and experienced the four distinct seasons there, so I feel myself bracing for the long weeks of below freezing temperatures, hoar frost, and snow. But it’s nice to know that although it will continue to get colder, I do live in a very mild climate and it won’t get dramatically colder. I joke about how Portland has four seasons, too – warmer, cooler, wet, and wetter – and they can occur at any time of the year!

After confirming my building science with Derin of UrbaNest who does home energy auditing, I’ve made a small step to address the cold weather by reversing the insulation layer. It was set up for summer so that the reflective layer was facing outwards to deflect heat so I switched it so it’s now reflecting heat back into the space. It’s a thin insulation layer so it doesn’t do much for conductive heat losses, but it should help a little bit. I also closed up the windows for the winter. I miss having the view of the fig tree right outside, but I’ve noticed it is quite a bit warmer this way. I will be take a few more steps to weatherize the yurt. So far I have only had to turn the heater up to the third notch out of ten notches. I’ll keep ratcheting it up a notch as needed. I figure if I’m still chilly by the time the heater is running full-tilt, I’ll just add an extra sweater and be glad my Crockpot Does Double Duty!

Build Small, Live Large Summit

A couple years ago Jordan Palmeri of the Department of Environmental Quality conducted research exploring the effectiveness of various green building strategies. The research was discussed in an Ecotrope article featuring My Summer Garden Cottage as a case study. It will likely come as no surprise to any of you that building small was the single most effective way to conserve energy and resources. But this “finding” has profound implications for our country’s building industry. Our society has committed to the bigger is better mantra. It’s created a mess of our finances, requiring unsustainable resource extraction, and supported sprawling development patterns that make us unhealthy. But reversing this trend is like swimming upstream.

Fortunately here in Portland we’re gaining critical mass. Jordan rallied a group of people to discuss ways to support what he calls space-efficient housing. Through my internship with Orange Splot, LLC I connected with the working group and I’ve been helping out here and there as the working group created the Build Small, Live Large Summit. The summit has been coordinated by Nicholas Hartrich of Cascadia Green Building Council and it will take place on Friday, October 26th at Portland State University. Dee Williams, Derin Williams, and I will be presenting in a session called Biggie Smalls: The Notorious Tiny House. We hope you can join us!