People in my daily life may be a bit surprised that I’m posting this week, given some things going on. But I wanted to share this life-affirming update with you all:
Living Tiny absolutely, completely, sans aucun doute suits me.
I sleep like a log in the cozy loft. Each morning, I just lift my head a few inches to look directly out over trees and sky. The steady rain tapping on the window this morning made it really tempting to stay under the quilt with my doggie. But I eventually do climb down the ladder, which is now natural and not freaky.
I get ready for work and then wake my daughter. She sleeps like a log living Tiny too, not stirring while I shower or bang around downstairs. Still, I use my hairdryer outside if she’s is asleep. I like to think this qualifies me as a proud (and very modern) frontier woman.
I’m getting the hang of a wee kitchen. I am deeply grateful of the two feet of counter between stove and sink. In a way, that’s the “actual” kitchen, as washing, cutting and prepping are most easily done in that kind of spot. I store pots and pans in the oven, which is fine for me as a non-baker (although my friend DM was repelled by such clear misuse!).
On the other side of the sink is a “bar” with a few bottles of dry red wine (hint to my local friends), five wine glasses (remember I broke one already), and the stuff that accrues in the space of a day. Shoes are stored in a pine bureau under the counter, and desk stuff clutters its surface.
Tiny Homes do get messy quickly! In regular homes I’ve lived in, areas stayed organized longer – but they also lingered messy until I had a whole morning to clean. Now, after a month of this lifestyle, I’ve noticed that Tiny gets tornado-destroyed in about 10 minutes. But it also cleans in a heartbeat! The wave oscillation is faster. (Thanks to JB for that apt metaphor!)
Another aspect of Living Tiny that totally works for me is the composting toilet. This past weekend, I had my first Poop Removal Experience (hereinafter referred to as PRE). I was not scared by the process, based on research and the handy “how to” booklet provided by Nature’s Head. But I also knew that it could be a steep (and icky) learning curve until I was adept.
I definitely need to get a huge, thick pair of rubber gloves. Gallon plastic baggies with rubber bands, while a creative use of household supplies, were overly… optimistic.
But the PRE itself was simple, straightforward, and not gross in any way (Ha Ha to you, cynical cousin GH!). I had apparently used too much water when crumbling the peat moss into the new toilet four weeks ago, so the resulting mixture was rather gloppy. But I actually sniffed it (from a foot away; I’m not a lunatic), and it. just. smelled. like. dirt. I hefted it all into a hefty, and then hefted the hefty into the trash. I rinsed off the toilet with plain water and vinegar, and now she’s ready for round 2.
It’s just dirt, people. It’s people dirt!
“Finished compost from a composting toilet ready
for application as soil improvement in Kiel-Hassee,
Germany.” Photo courtesy of Wikipedia