That’s where I left off blogging a couple of months ago (my apologies for the lengthy, unexplained absence), while replacing window glass (finally done) and feeling overwhelmed at the array of things I wanted to accomplish to improve infrastructure for maximum comfort (averting frozen water lines and better home climate control) for the next winter while short on the requisite funds (grmph!). In the midst of this, the three tiny workshops I’d attended since January (see end slide show for snippets of Dee's Vardo workshop) had alternately exhilarated and stymied me. In spite of thinking I had found the right location to expand my tiny journey, increasingly, I couldn’t help but contrast the elation of each tiny immersion with the sluggishness I felt upon return. Recall the tears of joy with which I departed Portland, Oregon in April, post-PAD workshop (see Tiny Houses in the Big World, posted 4/27/2013)? Cheesy and over dramatic, perhaps, but real and while I’ve been grappling with the meaning, it's difficult to say precisely when the sands began to shift under the tiny house, but there were signs:
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- Sign #5: The Click! It’s early August. Somewhere between, the Surety Pest Control estimate, my mother and sister’s visit, a declining client roster, disassembling the tiny vent cap for damage assessment (None—Hooray!) and invader eviction, I heard myself say, without thinking, that I might sell the house and move to Portland… Click! No, this wasn't the sound my camera made when I dropped and broke it last week (doh!), but that of the door opening in The Wall. Inaudible to everyone else, it has become clear and unmistakeable to me over the years. It’s the sign of shift, like my move to Seattle 11 years ago 2 days after my divorce, resigning one law firm without a job offer as yet unaware of the imminent 20% pay raise coming from the next, leaving the second firm for an Island tool shed and earthbuilding apprenticeship, and deciding to build a tiny house on wheels (see Tiny Origins for more on the latter two). Click! Click! Click! Whether or not I sound a bit wacky, I’ve learned the hard way, it is to my detriment to ignore the click!
So, first things first. Everything depends on putting the tiny house up for sale. It wasn't built for high-speed, long-distance travel. Top traveling speed would be 35 mph (maybe). While much larger homes that have never even feigned mobility in their design can be moved, given the proper equipment and resources, this tiny house has been the repository of my savings over the last 6 years, to say nothing of 'blood, sweat and tears.' It’s an investment on which it is time to capitalize in order to move energy and open options—education, volunteering and workshops—hopefully, in the thriving Portland tiny community, close to Portland Alternative Dwellings, Shelter Wise, Niche Consulting (three of the 'real deal' in tiny house innovation and education, in my humble opinion) and the many tiny builds peppering the area. To build on skills and experience in order to better participate in something bigger than my tiny story, I want to be where the rubber under the tiny house hits the road (see Tiny Houses in the Big World, posted 4/27/2013 for reference). That’s the dream. That’s my plan, for now. Stay tuned.