Bacon In The Air

Bacon Bacon

Can you smell it? Can you taste it? Sorry that there's no photo of it. It doesn't last long enough to be photographed. To see it you'll have to make it yourself, or treat yourself to breakfast at a diner. You can smell and taste it then. But, bacon as a topic in a tiny house blog? Make bacon and it gets everywhere. I make it and then can't escape it. And it is not just a bacon thing.

I think I've finally managed the right place to put the burner, the right temperature for the pan, the right fans to turn on, and the windows to open to let me make bacon without triggering the smoke alarm. It's only a 391 square foot house. Whenever I blithely make bacon, I invariably create a fog that I only notice when it is highlighted by the morning sun, but then becomes unmistakable. Turn on those fans. Open those windows, regardless of the weather. Don't forget the splatter screen. It's worth it for bacon.

And, as I mentioned above, it isn't just bacon. A tiny house is more than its square footage (Using The Third Dimension). There's volume, too. But, even with that, aromas and smells can't go far. Think about a typical suburban house. Just as much bacon fog is made per slice, but the fog can disperse further, the vent hood can be larger, and there is more likelihood of an outdoor kitchen. In my big tiny house, the bacon-y atmosphere is just a slight breeze away from the bathroom, the bedroom, and the...nope, that's about it. The bacon stays.

The bacon stays, but so do other odors. Cooking with vinegar? Yep. Brewing tea? Ah. Burning a steak? Yep. Forget to take out the garbage or need to ventilate the bathroom because - whoa - odors roam. 

That also means good smells can linger, too. Tea, yes, but also potpourri, scented candles, flowers, and freshly baked cookies. Nice.

It is a small thing, but that's the point. In a tiny house, smaller things have larger effects. Most folks know tiny houses from online media. Photos and videos are for one sense. Live in one, and the other senses kick in. Life in a tiny house frequently comes back to intentional living. Do you really want to do what you want to do? There might be consequences. Dang. That sounds philosophical.

Maybe I am more likely to notice the air because I can't reach the smoke alarm. The smell doesn't bother me. The sound does. The taste can be worth it. If I was a true foodie, I guess the photos would take care of another sense. As for touch, well, you had to be there.

Now, even if you won't excuse me (and you're not here in any case), typing these words has convinced me to brew a cup of tea and get a cookie. 

Image from my fundraiser for tea pickers:

Kettle Pot Cup