How I Decided to Build a Tiny House


| 7/15/2014 2:37:00 PM


Tags: Tiny House, Small Homes, Hammerstone School, Liz Coakley,

Throughout my twenties, I worked on farms in and around Ithaca, New York. Every morning I'd hop on my bike or into my car, or, in a few ideal situations, walk out my front door, and make my way to the farm. In the evenings, tired and dirty, with a bunch of Swiss chard or a few tomatoes in hand, I'd make my way back home.

Onion Leeks

Home. Home to an apartment or a shared house or a cabin in the woods. Home to a bedroom and a communal kitchen, a table on the back porch, a hand-pumped well by the front door, a row of peas in the yard, a clothesline. Home to roommates who cook dinner and chat, friends who want to bike to town for a game of cards at a local bar. Home to a roommate who is silent, who talks too much, who I secretly hope is always out. Home to solitude. Home to my patient dog.

2005-2013. Nine years. Twelve homes. Fifteen roommates with fourteen pets.

House Collage

Mostly, I found this fulfilling. I liked the change; I liked setting up in a new space, creating a dynamic with the people around me, discovering the closest swimming holes and coffee shops. But moving is exhausting, and although I didn't realize it, it was wearing me down. Packing, unpacking, finding the things I needed, storing once again the things I didn't really need. The last time I packed my belongings and shuffled boxes out the door without letting out my roommates' cats, I knew I was done with it. All I wanted was a space of my own.




elderberry, echinacea, bee hive

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