Innocuous Living

I live in a tiny house. Duh. (as in obvious) I have to remind myself that I live in a tiny house. Doh! (as in Duh but with a personally inflicted forehead slap) Next week will be my ninth month living in my new old big tiny house. Pardon the early posting, but I didn't want to miss this thought while waiting to not miss that moment.

We humans easily fall into superlatives when we discuss housing. Sometimes that's grandiose. Sometimes, housing is unfortunately dramatic. Ideally, every night we sleep. It's a very human thing to do, so for most of our lives, where we sleep matters. It is hard for housing to be ignored because we spend so much time regularly returning to one. Nomads can even carry their houses around with them.

Tiny houses are no different. Gorgeous photos in well-written articles have spawned images of creative solutions, innovations from choice or necessity, and dreams of a simpler life. As a simple writer and photographer, I appreciate the work, craft, and artistry in those articles. I was one, but was always writing about someone else's space. My home is not as tidy and photogenic. Maybe I'll post photos in the Spring.

But what is innocuous? 

Last night, I treated myself to a mini-vacation. A big band was playing at a local casino. I danced. I dined. I decided to stay for a night rather than worry winter weather. The room was a nice place to unwind, sleep, and eventually freshen up.

The room was nearly the same size as my home. Whoa.

Living in a tiny house has become so innocuous that I don't think of it as a tiny house. It is home. It has many of the benefits of a home. Almost everything I need is in it. It has similar issues as a home. We're in winter, so I was worried about frozen pipes. But I hired a plumber to improve its winterization, so maybe I shouldn't have worried. No problem. Everything is fine.

But in less than nine months, I've grown accustomed to the space. (Pardon me, My Fair Lady fans.) This seems normal. This is normal. I live in a neighborhood of tiny houses. From here, we're the normal ones. Suburbia can simply look bizarre.

I've rarely lived in a city. I've usually lived in suburbia or in neighborhoods that are officially rural, but have nothing to do with farm life. 

My most recent conventional house is a nice size (868 square feet), but the mortgage didn't fit my lifestyle. 

The biggest houses were the 'nicest' and the biggest, but then there were two of us. The extra space sometimes acted as acoustical privacy. I do miss those garages. One even had an extra building that I used as a workout space.

Prior to all of that, was my first home that was bought by the old adage of 'buy the biggest house you can afford', which is evidently investment advice more than lifestyle advice. I rarely used 2/3 of the house. I also apologize to the roof and the yard because I was so young I didn't realize how much I neglected them until I moved to get married.

Now, it is just me in my new old big tiny house. 391 square feet, long and sorta skinny, one bedroom, one bath, and home.

I miss the yard and the autonomy gardening suggested. I miss the garages, and I suspect my Jeep and my bicycle miss being inside. I miss the workout space, which I'm working on by renting spaces and taking advantage of favorable gaps in shifting weather.

And yet, with all of those differences, within one year, I have to remind myself that this style of living is uncommon enough to mention as a conversation starter, and that anyone would care.

There is one other item that reminds me of the uniqueness of my life. Recently, I signed up for eHarmony. (A long story that I probably won't share here soon.) I don't consider it a major compatibility issue because accommodating accommodations is part of creating a relationship. But I've also realized that I consider living in a tiny house to be so normal that I didn't include it in my personality profile. I guess I have some editing to do.

It is easy to read and write about what is not normal. Normal is dull. But there's enough drama in the world, so maybe finding a way of living that is simple and innocuous is something to celebrate, and it took less than a year.