My own tiny home

I frequent a few blogs and www.tinyhouseblog.com is one of them. Whenever I look at these tiny homes I admire the simplicity that comes with living this way and I imagine these people's lives being a lot richer with things they truly love.

My dad and I were talking about little cabins. He told me all about the old one person logging cabins his father and brothers made. He said 'that's all I need!' and that he'd be 'perfectly happy' in one. He also added 'shit, you could build one in a day!'. My dad was born in 1944. He was the youngest of 4 brothers. He told me about having just a few toys. A wagon, cap gun, a handmade jumprope and a couple of wooden cars. They had large nails on the wall to hang their few outfits, all of which 'were the same'. His mom would bake her own bread, can salmon, deer meet and fruits and vegetables from their garden. She would bake cookies with egg whites, sugar and vanilla.

Talking with my dad just further made me realize what an abundance of stuff we actually have. We have everything we actually need to survive. Everything we have is convenient. We can shower and have hot water within a minute. We have heat at our fingertips. We have entertainment in a box. We have food already prepared in cans. And while I don't want to go back to 1944 and live that life, I do want to really think about where the things I use come from. Whether it be a factory, a local farm, etc., I at least need to think when I open my fridge how amazing it is to just have cold food in front of me. Cold food that I didn't have to pick, or bottle, or figure out how to preserve. We are lucky!

When I see my dad's work ethic, his likes and dislikes, his needs and the way he lives, its inspiring.

My point is, I have my own tiny home -- literally. It is so small, with 2 rooms being about 10x10, the front room about 18x15 and the kitchen being about 9x8. I have what I want right in front of me...under me! I have misused my space. I have stuffed it full of the unnecessary and overwhelmed my life with convenience, and in the processed moved in the opposite direction of happiness.

In closing, a quote from my dad.

"You know how many dishes I have? 1 plate. 1 fork. 1 cup and a spoon to stir my coffee with. That's all I need".

My dad, a 67 year old ex-logger with simple wishes for the summer, a garden and a salt shaker. He has a lot wrong, but he sure has life right in some very important ways.