Roll It Fold It Store It

"Get that thing out of my way!" Followed by, "Where'd that thing go?" Welcome to space and stuff management in a somewhat tiny house. Got four thousand square feet of floor space? Everything can find a bit of flooring to occupy, ready at a whim. Some travel time may be required. Got four hundred square feet of floor space? No whims. Plans. And be ready to rearrange the space you've got. That means things have to be ready to be rolled away, folded and shoved aside, or stored somehow and somewhere. Living tiny may be an exercise in minimalism, but it can also be an exercise in management.

My house has 391 square feet. (And, please, will someone use that as a prompt for an AI? Some critter whose feet are square and has 391 of them. And why is it an odd number? There's a short story in there somewhere.) In a previous post, I described that my square footage should include storage units and rented spaces. That doesn't mean my house's spaces are static. I can only use one space at a time, but the central space that isn't bedroom, bathroom, or kitchen is alternately an office, a gym, a place to stretch or meditate, or simply a project space as I assemble something or tear down the box it came in. That space is occupied and surrounded by a kitchen island, a desk/table, kitchen shelving, my big comfy chair, miscellaneous storage, office paperwork racks, and places for hats and coats and shoes. That's a lot going on.

The kitchen island is on rollers. The desk/table can fold up into the wall, and the chair can slide into that space. The hat and coat rack is easy to shift. The shoes get kicked under the shoe rack. The big, comfy chair folds up. The office file storage is on wheels. And I probably missed something. This place is mobile, even when the house isn't moving.

Sure, I rent larger spaces or go outside for exercises that are best done far from walls. Sure, I rent a storage unit for the majority of my stuff (and that is now shrinking as I see how little I need in a tiny house.) But I still haven't filled all of the closets and cupboards. Many of my exercises are linear, merely needing a space slightly more than one person wide and a dozen feet long.

As I write this, the office file storage unit sits beside me as a shelf in case I want to get the laptop out of my lap. The big, comfy chair is in upright mode so I can type. The desk is sitting over there, vacant, because there are times I want a surface to work on and when I am writing I prefer to have my laptop on top of my lap. 

Later today, I'll probably shove aside the file storage and the kitchen counter to clear up floor space of stretching after dance class. 

Conventional US living may finally be breaking free from big solid chunks of wood for furniture. That's mostly style because it doesn't take much substance to hold most people. But then, I think conventional living may also be breaking free from big, solid houses. At least the big solid furniture can be stout places to hide during earthquakes. Big, stout furniture is also a reason to hire movers if you move houses.

There is no one solution. It is possible to live in someplace where everything rolls or folds, but at some point, it becomes a stunt. That's great for clicks and views, but for living, I prefer simplicity. 

I remain intrigued by a fold-up wall bed. I am shopping for a lighter and more adjustable desk chair. I have plans for under-deck storage, but I'll need a custom designer (and the money) to make that happen. 

And it is funny how easy it is to grumble about something being in the way - and then realizing it is on wheels and can roll down the hall, or can fold into one-fifth its usual space, or may have to go to storage, which is at most only five minutes away.

It is also comical - after the fact - that I can lose my keys, my phone, and even my laptop in such a small space. I suspect the little folk. Maybe I should double-check the whiskey supply. Maybe they've gotten to that, too.

Life is encouraging us to be flexible. OK. I guess me and my floor space will live that way.

Now, about creating an image of a critter with square feet, 391 of them...