Some Settling May Occur
You may have seen the packing. "Some settling may occur". Even if you haven't seen the words on the box, you've probably seen a box that was more air than product. They filled it up. They shipped it. The box shook. The product settled into a lot less volume. Moving in can be like that, especially in a tiny home.
Three-and-a-half months in the house, and the unpacking continues. Filling cupboards and closets is easy, especially when there are so few, and they are necessarily smaller. Filling them well, however, takes more time. What goes where? That's the perfect spot! But that can be true for four things that work well in the preferred position. Shuffle. Sort. Put into storage or take out. A typical suburban house has enough space that inefficiencies don't matter. At worst, things go into garages, attics, and basements. Have you seen some of those garages? Some you can't because they're filled with boxes and stuff.
My tiny house reached equilibrium. It isn't optimal, but it is workable. I'm settling in. So are my things. Take a break, Tom. OK.
OK. Enough of that. As stuff gets shuffled off to various shelves and such, empty space opens up. Re-arrange the pots, and some pans can fit in too. Soft luggage fits into a newly-emptied bin, and a shelf is now available. Someday, I'll find the right way to store the Tupperware. My pantry continues to flow out onto the counter. Nothing big, but the place starts to feel more roomy.
So, let's think about the 'big'. The range. The propane range that came with the place. The propane range that usually works fine, and works better the more I use it, but I don't use it enough to keep the lines clear. It is a tiny house. I live alone. I love to cook, but it doesn't make sense to cook more than I can eat. Hey, there's even a wardrobe expense there.
So, most of my cooking is on an induction burner perched on the countertop, and a high-end Cuisinart toaster oven slid onto a wire shelving unit. Two nights ago I roasted a chicken in it, then made stock from scratch. If I really wanted to reclaim space, I could get the range removed and either slide my appliances into the range's space, or get an electric range. No more flameouts from propane lines that aren't used enough. No more gas anxiety. I'd hang onto a butane camp stove, just in case the power goes out.
But that only frees up about 3 square feet. Ah, that's almost 1% of the floor space. That's worth something. Let's see. 1% of $76,500 is $765. That's 1% of the purchase price. But it is also more valuable square footage because the available floor space, the space where I can actually see floor, is smaller. Space is valuable.
My office storage is inefficient. I might be able to reorganize file cabinets and supplies. Clothing and linens are finding places to share as seasons change. Gotta find a better place for that ski jacket. Did find more shelving that will find new occupants. Putting the printer on a shelf instead of a countertop, good. Hiding the router in a cupboard, doable. And, in general, return to reduce, recycle, donate, or dump; and roll it, fold it, store it. It is a continual adjustment.
Moving into a house, not just dumping things in past the front door but truly making a new place fit takes time, and as time changes, the fit changes.
The task continues, but the urgency abates. In the midst of a break or another chore an idea arrives that points out another way to streamline this box of a house. Bit by bit, box by box, some settling will occur.
Hmm. I wonder what I can hang from the ceiling...