When I was in high school and college, my extraordinary little brother built himself a little house. He is 6 years younger than I am so that meant he was in middle school. And I’m not talking about a rickety death trap of a tree house like I built when I was that age. His little house was insulated. It had real windows and a door and a real roof. It was a true little house. It didn’t have running water or electricity but that wasn’t really necessary for its purpose a retreat from our very loud and overly nosy family of seven.
Ever since then, I have been intrigued by little houses. Yesterday I came upon this blog post of a little house that could be the next incarnation of Will’s creation. A slightly larger design, a working fireplace, higher end finishes and divided up into more rooms.
Can’t you just see yourself here with a good book and no distractions? In my dream tiny house, I wouldn’t have a fig fireplace bc that would mean I would have to both light a fire everyday and take out the ashes, which are two things I don’t like. That said, it makes for a nice picture. I also love the tiny kitchen:
This house doesn’t have a stove or an oven. All the cooking is done on that wood fire. Again, making a fire and taking out the ashes: less romantic in real life. Also, indoor pollution. Open fires in enclosed spaces do not make for healthy lungs no matter how beautiful they are. Not to be Debbie Downer or anything
And there’s a hilarious study for one’s alchemy and globe examining:
A tiny house is just so intriguing. Do you think it would be difficult to live in a 12′ x 12′ space? It’s such a different type of house from our standard suburban house with multiple bedrooms and bathrooms. It’s funny though, as I try to stop buying new things and decrease the number of things I have, my current apartment seems bigger and bigger. Perhaps downsizing when I move will be less painful that I originally thought…