May 26, 7:09 a.m.
It’s Sunday-raining on the tiny house—diffuse and steady. The rabbit fencing that failed to keep a family of bunnies from taking up residence behind my bath house holds water in its hexagons, each bead holds a tiny garden abstract before it breaks away and goes underground.
Of course, any effort expended toward tiny home improvement will be punctuated with diversions. My 41st birthday provided plenty, marked in celebratory fashion with a little song (a Champagne serenade at my doorstep) a little dance (tango workshop in Seattle), various meals with friends and a new connection. Katherine, on the verge of building her own tiny house. She ventured out from Seattle for a tour of possibilities. Oh, how the tiny network grows…
In the interim, amid minor adjustments/setbacks, the glass replacement project continues. As if on cue for having opened my house to the elements, there was rain, or the threat thereof, throughout the week. I managed to finish installing two of three remaining new panes after I cracked one—doh! The third window sash had to be planed to fit glass that was a hair too big, and one fogged pane remains tacked in place, awaiting the re-order from Island Sash & Door.
(To be continued…)
In the grand scheme of things, I’ve been a bit foggy of late, which partly accounts for the gap in posts. Even so, energies are percolating. It’s as if the large bird (owl?) that clattered up my shingles before landing on top of the dormers and tromping about just over my head at 2:30 a.m. was a metaphor for change I can feel/hear coming. Flounder as I may, I can’t yet see it clearly over my to-do list and withdrawal symptoms resulting from PAD’s amazing Casa Pequeña workshop last April (see Tiny Houses in the Big World, posted 4/27/2013).
So, what next? Where am I going? Waxing nostalgic for my fellow PADsters, I picked up the phone and dialed Dee Williams’ number. As it turns out, perhaps south (with a positive spin) is the answer. There are several tiny builds happening around Olympia and Portland this summer. I can volunteer, further my education AND, quite literally, help enlarge tiny community. There’s one piece of the puzzle.
Sunday, back on the home sweet home front, my way out of funk was to get busy. The window project (see Rain on Tiny Window Panes, posted 5/12/2013), again, stalled after the glass ordered to replace the broken replacement turned out to be a quarter inch too thick (sigh…). On to the languishing bath house! I tore off the tar paper (it’s only exterior covering for 3 years), checking for moisture compromises. No major problems—hooray! To my delight, Eli, the fellow whose tool shed was my first Island residence (see Tiny Origins: Windows of Opportunity), stopped by to help recover the building. In a few short hours it was done, and just as we were cleaning up, a car pulled up and a clown jumped out… Yes, really.
[paraphrasing] “That little house has given us a lot of headaches. Now, everyone wants one.” The statement was accompanied by a formidable list of the illegalities negating various tiny scenarios. While Deano’s report mighty otherwise have raised some concern, for now, I’ve slipped through a code loophole created for “garden caretaker residence”, although I’m apparently looming larger in the County’s consciousness than I was aware. Risky? Maybe. Worth it? Absolutely! Rules have been known to change for ideas that take hold of the collective imagination, and imagination needs examples. I am happy to oblige.
So, clowning around at the end of a productive day with friends old and new, feeling rejuvenated and optimistic, I’m looking forward to swinging my hammer in tiny community this summer, perhaps, giving tiny dreamers and county officials near and far, something to think about. I’ll keep you posted.