Tiny Houses
Nov. 13th, 2012 10:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stitchwhichFor a few years I've been actively intrigued by "tiny homes", starting with the Tumbleweed models and moving on through the various styles that have been designed since those were introduced. I've always thought of living in a wee house when I got 'older', someplace just large enough for one or two people, easy to keep clean, and somewhat storybook-like... "grandma's cottage", if you will.
I hadn't expected the idea to catch fire but I'm glad it has. Cruising the web looking at models of them is fun. And the advent of e-readers and Blueray interface between computer & TV have made the concept even more appealing as our relaxation needs are met by minaturized support equipment. Who would have guessed in the 60s that televisions could hang on a wall like a portrait? Or that telephones would not only fit in your pants pocket, but would also hold all of your favorite music, show movies, and hold your library too?
As we've gotten further along in our hobby-play, my need for a sewing machine and all of the vast array of designer equipment has nearly disappeared. Yeah, I do still sometimes use my machine but most of what I make is handsewn. I don't need a serger, a buttonhole maker, a pleating machine, or even a quilting stand (I generally make tied quilts, which can be done by laying them on bed or floor to pin, then sewn draped over a table.) So my need for storage space has lessened. Not being a clotheshorse, I use less of a closet, or a chest of drawers, than Bossman does. Again - not bad for someone who'd love to live in a tiny house someday.
But my downfall is in 'stuff'. Memento-stuff. Today I am cleaning out a hope chest stocked with things given to me over the years from SCA friends that I had no need for but also no desire to give away to someone else. And some of it (like the cowbell in there !?!) would never be good as gifts anyway. The chest has been ignored, for the most part, and is nearly empty. And yet in another room we have a pile of blankets that we use for camping and winter-time, with no place to store them except on top of whatever is sitting 'out' on the craft room floor. Today, the chest will be meeting the blankets and a merger will be formed. And the assorted bits of 'someday I may fit them' clothing and the little pile of datebooks I've kept in the bottom drawer of my chest of drawers are going to find their way to a Goodwill box. Because really? What is my purpose in keeping that stuff?
Because if, someday, we ever DO decide that the ideal retirement plan is a tiny house, I want to be ready for it.
So that means that my photo albums are going to be dismantled and the photos scanned for digital storage. And the dishes in the kitchen and craft room (SCA ware) - They too shall be merged. Why on earth do we have two sets of dedicated dishes and silverware? That is just silly. Why not use the ones that we bought because I love them all the time instead of only on weekends? Frankly, I'm tired of the Pfaltzgraff pattern we've had for the last 25 years. And we sure don't need enough to set a table for 12! So why not merge the 'feastgear' and the 'regular dishes'? I think it'd make a very ecletic table setting, and a fun one, too.
I hadn't expected the idea to catch fire but I'm glad it has. Cruising the web looking at models of them is fun. And the advent of e-readers and Blueray interface between computer & TV have made the concept even more appealing as our relaxation needs are met by minaturized support equipment. Who would have guessed in the 60s that televisions could hang on a wall like a portrait? Or that telephones would not only fit in your pants pocket, but would also hold all of your favorite music, show movies, and hold your library too?
As we've gotten further along in our hobby-play, my need for a sewing machine and all of the vast array of designer equipment has nearly disappeared. Yeah, I do still sometimes use my machine but most of what I make is handsewn. I don't need a serger, a buttonhole maker, a pleating machine, or even a quilting stand (I generally make tied quilts, which can be done by laying them on bed or floor to pin, then sewn draped over a table.) So my need for storage space has lessened. Not being a clotheshorse, I use less of a closet, or a chest of drawers, than Bossman does. Again - not bad for someone who'd love to live in a tiny house someday.
But my downfall is in 'stuff'. Memento-stuff. Today I am cleaning out a hope chest stocked with things given to me over the years from SCA friends that I had no need for but also no desire to give away to someone else. And some of it (like the cowbell in there !?!) would never be good as gifts anyway. The chest has been ignored, for the most part, and is nearly empty. And yet in another room we have a pile of blankets that we use for camping and winter-time, with no place to store them except on top of whatever is sitting 'out' on the craft room floor. Today, the chest will be meeting the blankets and a merger will be formed. And the assorted bits of 'someday I may fit them' clothing and the little pile of datebooks I've kept in the bottom drawer of my chest of drawers are going to find their way to a Goodwill box. Because really? What is my purpose in keeping that stuff?
Because if, someday, we ever DO decide that the ideal retirement plan is a tiny house, I want to be ready for it.
So that means that my photo albums are going to be dismantled and the photos scanned for digital storage. And the dishes in the kitchen and craft room (SCA ware) - They too shall be merged. Why on earth do we have two sets of dedicated dishes and silverware? That is just silly. Why not use the ones that we bought because I love them all the time instead of only on weekends? Frankly, I'm tired of the Pfaltzgraff pattern we've had for the last 25 years. And we sure don't need enough to set a table for 12! So why not merge the 'feastgear' and the 'regular dishes'? I think it'd make a very ecletic table setting, and a fun one, too.
