It was a whirlwind of last-minute prep--decking, video production and release, toe kick finger holes, cleaning, stowing, errands, staging and signage—my dear friend, Dori Hallberg, on the eve of her birthday (my heroine!), arrived for backup, and Saturday’s Wee Open House welcomed 40+ visitors to my door. Wandering in twos and threes through the gate and across the field, they beheld, exclaimed, pondered, probed, swapped ideas, reclined in the window seat or lingered thoughtfully in the loft.
While I am proud of and have loved living in my little house, I always demurred apologetically when it came to explaining the bath/toilet. It was begun with an evolutionary plan for charm on par with the tiny residence. With the sudden decision to inhabit last fall, top priority became basic function. That took some doing (see Taking the Leaks, posted 11/11/2012) and, as plans have evolved (see Oh Shift! Here We Go Again…, posted 08/05/2013) resources were otherwise directed. Fortunately, when I had a chance for a pre-WOH! check-in with Dee, she shared how she’d been similarly apologetic about her facilities for years and encouraged me to, as she has, simply get over it.
With that, I swept out the bath house, cleaned the clawfoot tub and when the first visitor asked to peek, I said with a sweeping flourish, “Go right ahead!”
I overheard them exclaim, with a little surprise, perhaps due to the tar paper exterior, that it was cute! There you have it. So, here’s the deal: if the provision of immediately functional, upgradeable bath/toilet facilities would close the sale, I’m willing to throw in the bathhouse for free and would be happy to advise on set-up that will avert the struggles I had with frozen water lines. I also refer you to my coverage of Brittany Yunker’s compost toilet system for an aesthetic and effective toilet option (see Shapeshifting, posted 08/25/2013). My learning curve, to your advantage. Just sayin'... it’s an option.
Last night, I watched the sunset juice out of another gorgeous day, smiled at the wonder of five or six people chatting comfortably in my wee house the day before—mother and child in the loft, two in the window seat, another seated at the dining table, one propped against the kitchen cabinet and me leaning in the doorway (that’s almost seven!). Intimate spaces have an energy that draws folks in, calms, recalibrates for conversation with each other or the birds, clouds or breeze passing by the windows. Welcome! Do come in. Have a seat. Won’t you stay awhile? My gratitude to all who did. It was a pleasure.
(Special thanks to Robbie Cribbs of Sound Trap Studios for the “Mighty Micro House on Wheels” video tour and to Joe Reggiatore of Tambourine Sky for the groovy musical background riffs.)