Toys for the Small House

Disclaimer: This intention of this post is NOT to guide people in buying gifts for our children.  If you are thinking of buying something for us, please resist the urge and instead come over, share the gift of your company,  and play with us--using the many toys we already have!

Now that that's out of the way: I've been thinking a lot about toys this month.  Which is a change of pace for me.  As a parent, I fail at knowing what the latest and greatest children's toys are.  I don't like shopping, and really despise it when my children are with me--which is always.  In fact, in the last three and a half years I have probably purchased four toys for my boys--and all of these were bought as bribes.

Luckily for Mason and Fergus, other people do get them toys.  Friends and family have been so good to us--total abundance around here. So much, in fact, that I frequently take away bag full of un-touched or over-sized ones to my Mom's house so we can have fresh ones there.

When we downsized, I entered a new toy realm I will call: size concious.  Suddenly we couldn't fit just anything.  We had to be choosy.  So, I started paying attention to what they actually played with.  Maybe this will help you in your gift giving this year for the little ones in your life.  Once again, please don't get our boy's anything--we have more than enough!

Here are some winners:

• Wall Mirror: One of the best things about this is that it employs a very underused space in our house: the bottom 3 feet of the walls.  Plus, the boys love it!  The favorite activity lately has been to "cry" in front of it to see what they look like.  Hilarious!
• Anything that can be and do many different things (thanks, Sarah!)--such as blocks, train tracks, magnets, farm animal sets.
• Blankets and pillows for forts.  This play is just starting for us, but it's really involving for the boys.  And very easy for me to re-incorporate the building materials back into our space.
• Clean laundry and a basket to toss and move around (much to my chagrin, this really is a favorite activity).
• Art supplies and Games.  I put these two together because Mason is just starting to enjoy these.  With Fergus (18mos) they are a disaster.   So, we keep the locked up and try to do them when F is sleeping, otherwise the dog eats a lot of crayons and play-dough.  They store so well, though!  Good space:use ratio.

• Books, books, books. By volume, we commit the most space to books.  I purchased this book rack at a book store going out of business for $25.00.  It only projects 4" off the wall and, once again, only uses the bottom 4 feet of the wall.  Plus, easy for the boys to re-shelve their own books.
• The great outdoors! Snow shovels, sandbox, trees, balls.  Plenty of room outside to keep these!

• Doot-Di-Doos.  These are the long or short cardboard tubes used to loudly announce: "DOOT-DI-DOO!" (Eternal thanks to the Bradley brothers for introducing me to these.)  Not only do the boys love to practice their vocal skills, but also to ride cars through and, god forbid, play swords  with them.  I'll never forget the look on Mason's face when my mom presented him with about 8 of them, all diferent shapes and sizes.  Good gift!
• Lastly, work-related items: sponges to clean, spray bottles, mini brooms, hammers, levels, etc.  You get the picture.  They love to work, and we are happy to oblige!

We wish you all  happy, sane, down-sized holidays!  Come over and check out our mirror and doot-di-do collection! When used together, it is really an amazing performance!

Food Before Floors

What's in your bowl?

A skill I used to enjoy was a keen ability to prioritize.  No more.  I have lost that ability in the slush-pile of our lives.  I have a minor crisis about this daily.  In fact, right after Mason was born, I saw a counselor about the sudden evaporation of my sense of priorities.  "There is so much to attend to--more than one person could ever take care of. What do I do first?"  She gave me really great advice in the form of a parable:

A professor has a cup in his hand.  Next to him on the desk is a pile of rocks, a pile of sand and a bowl of water.  He fills the cup up with the rocks and asks the class, "is the cup full?" 


They reply, "Yes!" 


"Wrong." He commences to add sand to the cup, fulling in the cracks.  "Now is the cup full?" he asks.  


"Yes!" they reply.  


"Wrong." Next he adds water, filling in more gaps again, until the cup really is full.


"What is the lesson?" asks the professor.  


The student in the front row responds, "No matter how full your cup is, you can always add more!" 


"No," says the professor.  "You better put the rocks in first!"

This is a great parable.  One I think about often in the form of "what are my rocks today?"  Of course they are always my people--my family and friends.  I recently had the revelation that I am a rock that needs to go in, too.  Don't know why it took me three years of motherhood to discover that!!

One clear way I care for all of us is with food.  If we don't have good food in our bellies, it's tough to do much else--maintain energy, health or well-being.   I don't show my love with the latest and greatest toys (because I hate shopping), or with money in the college fund (because it's all going somewhere else right now), or by keeping the house clean (because it's truly impossible.) Instead,  I put up some Colorado tomato sauce and help butcher a local hog.  Needless to say, our pantry and freezer and bellies are full, but not the bank account or vacuum cleaner.

Piece by Piece

It's quite elevating to dine here.

Many days I think it will be at least 20 years before we finish our house.  It is going so slowly right now.  That can get depressing for me.   I love nothing more than COMPLETING projects.  But it feels as though life is strongly working against us completing the house.  We need money, so Scott has to work elsewhere.  We have two small children.   Here is my what I've learned: only crazy people have their second child and build a home in the same year.  

But then, our sage friend and cabinet builder, Mitch, came by to install our (new, spacious, gorgeous) pantry and he helped me.  "You are not sitting at the kid's table anymore!  You have some siding up!  It's looking good around here!"   

"Seriously, Mitch?  We have a long way to go and we are so tired.  Especially Scott."

"Megan, you just have to put up one piece of wood at a time.  One piece of wood, and then another,  and another.  You WILL get there."

And now I think this every day: One Piece Of Wood.  I think it will be less than 20 years.  Maybe 15??

Siding is starting!!!

Inlaws and Outlaws

For two reasons I feel like a cheat when saying we live in 629 square feet.  One: The Garage.  Two: Nana's Casita.  

First, the Garage.  Our cars don't dream of rolling in under our house.  It's for our bikes and tools and washer and dryer and camping gear and dry food storage.  In our small house priorities, these things seem more worthy of precious cover than our cars.  Besides, I've lived in snow country my entire life and never parked under cover.  Why spoil myself now!  When we designed our place, finding a spot for a washer upstairs meant trading for precious cabinet space.  Walk my laundry down to the garage?  No problem!  It's not like it's across town or anything.  Besides, it give me a reason to go outside.  Evidently, 50 years ago, the garage was a common location for the laundry center.  But now the laundry keeps getting closer and closer to the bedroom....I'm not kidding.  Homes are now being designed with washers and dryers in the walk-in-closets.  I guess it's good cover for the bed squeaking...hee hee.

Another major reason I feel a bit disingenuous describing our house as small is Nana's Casita.  In a previous post I mentioned we remodeled the back of the existing house next to us to fit a small studio apartment for my mom to stay in.  With its own entrance directly across from our front door, we wake up and look out to see if the other has parted her curtains to signal a welcome.  Then, either I send Mason over to say good morning or she comes over for coffee.  She stays there about twice a week (she lives in Yampa).  While other homes accommodate their guests in a bonus room, we had the opportunity to create a totally separate zone.  It has its own bathroom and kitchenette,  and its own heat we can turn on or off as needed.  Best of all, it stays clean and free from my propensity to fill it with miscellanea!

I will say it has been stressful trying to complete our own house and hers at the same time.  Needless to say, neither is done!  But, we'll get there.  Hers is done enough to have her pals over for wine and  give us the opportunity to yell, "Keep it down over there!"

I think a lot about auxiliary space--living space not connected to your main house that you can use when you need it, but not all the time.  You only have to heat, clean, attend to it when you use it.  Rather than everyday.   My mom loves her casita because she can be close to us but doesn't feel as intrusive as if she was IN our house (in our case, on the couch).  She has her freedom, and we have her!  Which is priceless!

The next auxiliary space I am dreaming over: an old camper retrofitted to be our library.  Imagine that!  "I am headed outside to the library.  See you in a couple hours....."

Mama Got a Brand New Job

A list of future posts about our lives in our little house sits next to our computer, undeveloped.   So many entertaining things are happening!  But all I've been able to do is keep adding ideas, rather than write about them.  Yes, against my better judgement, I got a job outside of our construction company and property managment company and child raising company.  I got this job because I need a way to pay for preschool and daycare. My wish: two days a week to myself when I can FINISH OUR HOUSE  and NURTURE OUR BUSINESS.  The daycare expense of these two days: $800 a month.  Whew!

I have yet to spend one day doing these sought after tasks.  Isn't that life?  You start with one desire, and the hoops you jump through--the journey--become the thing that consumes you.  Much more so than the original goal.  At least that is how I feel right now.  Caught in the logistics.  Memorizing menus, martinis, and mercurial staff.  Shuttling the kids from me to Scott each afternoon.  Trying to keep myself and the family balanced, rested, fed, nurtured.

After nearly two months, I feel we are close to getting in a groove.  Which will include me posting some fun stuff on the blog--hopefully photos of my progress on the house!  Thanks for staying tuned.

Emotional Downsizing

I sold my Harley today.  I never really thought this day would come.  I won this beauty in a raffle in 1998 with a ticket purchased by my mom as a Christmas Gift.  Seriously.  The kicker is that I had yearned for a motorcycle for over half my life, and was in the process of buying one when the good universe delivered this to me nearly free of charge.  This bike was loaded with symbolism for me--of luck and gratitude and freedom and independence.  And then, of the challenge of letting things go.

Once I learned how to ride a motorcycle this big, I rode it quite a bit--but never enough.  I put her in the back of my truck and went to Alabama with my dog.  I rode the Fall River Road through Rocky Mountain National Park with a boyfriend on the back.  I spent time in Southern Colorado cruising through farm land.  I traveled to a friend's wedding in Winter Park, experiencing true cold weather riding.  I had leather chaps and steel toed boots.   In other words, I was a single lady with no small children!

Based on how my mother is, I figured that being a mother would mean obsession with keeping my kids alive.  I never anticipated it would spill over into a need to keep me and my husband alive.  Mason came out of me and I knew I could never ride that beautiful bike again.  I wouldn't be the mother who died on her motorcycle.  But, how to let it go?

A man wanted to buy it.  I sold it.  I watched it drive away from me on a trailer.  I cried a lot.  Not really about the bike, because I hadn't ridden it in over 8 years (gulp!).  I cried about what the bike meant to me and represented about me. I cried about the memories and the fantasy of driving down the road whenever I want to.  By myself.  I churned through all the ideas and emotions that were preventing me from letting go of something I never used.  Then, I thought about the two little boys and grown man who are my world.   And I felt clear.

Stay-at-Homesteading

8 pounds!  Rhubarb Jam anyone?

Ready for winter in 09

Good thing our neighborhood allows clothes lines!

I was at a party a few months ago, and when a woman asked me what my job is,  I answered, "I'm a stay-at-homesteader." She replied, "you must have chickens!" Well, I don't have chickens (yet), but it did get me thinking about what I mean by calling myself this. After all, it's a pretty heady designation given that  I don't live on anything close to a ranch or farm. Or have any edible livestock cavorting in the back yard. (If you don't count the cat, who I consider barbecuing sometimes.  Just kidding, Luna!)

For me, this all started when I was home with my first son, and was deeply confused about what I was doing with my life--I had left my career behind to do what???  I felt completely lost. My self-concept changed for the better for two reasons:  I had unconditional support from my Mom and Husband,  and I read an interview with  a woman named Shannon Hayes.  She wrote a book called  Radical Homemakers: Reclaiming Domesticity from a Consumer Culture. 
The publisher's description: "Mother Nature has shown her hand. Faced with climate change, dwindling resources, and species extinctions, most Americans understand the fundamental steps necessary to solve our global crises-drive less, consume less, increase self-reliance, buy locally, eat locally, rebuild our local communities.In essence, the great work we face requires rekindling the home fires.Radical Homemakers is about men and women across the U.S. who focus on home and hearth as a political and ecological act, and who have centered their lives around family and community for personal fulfillment and cultural change. It explores what domesticity looks like in an era that has benefited from feminism, where domination and oppression are cast aside and where the choice to stay home is no longer equated with mind-numbing drudgery, economic insecurity, or relentless servitude.Radical Homemakers nationwide speak about empowerment, transformation, happiness, and casting aside the pressures of a consumer culture to live in a world where money loses its power to relationships, independent thought, and creativity. If you ever considered quitting a job to plant tomatoes, read to a child, pursue creative work, can green beans and heal the planet, this is your book." 


 Hell, this is not my book, this is my life!  The cover even has a buffed out lady waiving a rolling pin in the air in a power salute!  Oh yeah!


So, for me, Radical Homemaking and Stay-at-Homesteading, means unplugging in as many ways as I can from having to buy things, so that I am not pressured to make money.  It means living in a 629 square foot house.  It means energy efficiency.  It means pulling the boys in the bike trailer all around town.  It means working at the gym day-care so we don't have to pay for a membership.  It means washing diapers, making my own wet-wipes, and  growing my own potatoes and rhubarb.  It means canning and freezing and preserving as many things as I can to see us through winter.  It means kissing and thanking and thanking my Husband and Mom for helping bring in the money so I can pursue my radical life.  And, one day soon, it may mean chickens.  Or not.  Luna may have other plans for the chickens. 

The Barn

Do you see what these two photos have in common?  

The cabinet below was made from the very barn siding you see above.  We have the most amazing cabinets thanks to many people: Blake Sander, my mother, my husband, Pat Zabinski, Erik Kemp, Kenny Bradley, and Mitch Porter.  In 2006 my mom was talking to her friend Blake Sander, who mentioned he was looking for someone to deconstruct his family's 130 year old barn in Ohio in trade for the wood.  So, Scott and I traveled to Ohio to meet Pat, Eric and Kenny to perform a HUGE job.  This year, our friend Mitch built these pieces of art for our home.

In 2008 I wrote an article for Homelink Magazine that tells the story best: 

Barn StoriesBy Megan Moore-Kemp

We cannot predict where some things will end up. Once I am finished with that sweater, bike, or casserole dish and pass it on, I imagine myself casting it from dormancy back into life.

The second life of wood-or third, rather, because it was a tree first-isn't something I thought much about before I met my husband. He is a carpenter, so providing a future for unused wood is one of his callings. Currently, our community is surrounded by unused wood. As we embark on the challenge of finding a second life for the beetle-killed pines around us, it is exciting to imagine the future this wood may have. As an illustration, I'll tell the tale of Blake Sander's Ohio barn as a lovely example of the unanticipated ways old wood can be put back to use.



Blake Sander's Grandfather, Ed Sander Sr., took ownership of the family barn in the 1890s, ten years after it was built. He ran a farm and housed dairy cows under its massive timber-frame shell. Three generations worked and forged a life beneath the huge hand-hewn timber. Mr. Sander may have predicted farming would fade as a way of life for his family, but I don't believe he ever could have predicted the future of his hard working barn. 

When Blake assumed responsibility for his family's farm, he learned that a barn that isn't working doesn't work. After years of spending money to maintain the roof, siding and grounds, the old structure was becoming dangerous to both his savings and curious by-passers. Some neighbors-folks he grew up with-dealt with their family barns by knocking them over and burning them. Blake's vision was different; he wanted the land and barn to have a legacy. He wanted the land to become wildlife habitat and the building to pass into someone else's vision. So-he set out to find someone who cared about wood.

When Blake mentioned his quest to my mother, she called me right away. “He's looking for someone who loves wood. And I said, 'my son-in-law is passionate about wood!'” After many phone calls, several reconnaissance trips, a visit to our bank, and a long drive, we stood in front of the behemoth we agreed to deconstruct-more than a bit daunted by the task before us.

We set up camp near by, grabbed our gloves, nail pullers, and pry bars and got to work. In addition to a month of sweat, dirt, blood, bug bites, danger and discovery, it took hands-on help from family and friends, a man-lift, a forklift, an excavator, a dump truck, a semi, and some money to bring 40,000 pounds of century-old timber to our home in Colorado.

Now, the wood is living up to Blake Sander's vision. The maple from the granary is window and door trim; the pine siding, a bookcase; the oak knee braces, a table; and the oak and birch beams will be worked back into a residential timber frame. If most products in our lives go from the cradle to the grave, this wood has avoided its fate and hopped right back into the cradle.

The first time I stepped into the barn it spoke to me. It told me of its history as huge trees brought down by men and horses, then worked by hand into a frame and raised-a home for dairy cows, hay, and plows. I learned of the times the Sanders had need of more space; additions were put on after things like concrete and lumber mills were invented. Both in construction and deconstruction, the barn's stories prove that legacies are a collective effort and take time. As it turns out, we have many to thank for the unexpected beauty which comes our way. I find it exciting the way the barn keeps telling its stories in ways Ed Sander never would have imagined. And, I'm looking forward to the stories our own beetle-killed pines have to tell in the future. 

© 2008 HomeLink Magazine | Park Range Publications All Rights Reserved.

The Swings at Little Toots Park

We had Fergus' first birthday party yesterday at Little Toot's Park.  It's about a five minute walk from our house.  As my Mom said, "it's the perfect place to have a party."  For so many reasons.  Grills.  Picnic tables.  Good Shade.  Baby Swings.  Slides.  Sand.  Lots of soccer playing space.  Public art that's fun to climb on.  Never mind the best reason: I don't have to clean the house!

It has me thinking about public space.  Since moving in to our place, I've used parks, the library, the pool, the bike path, the restaurants and the river much more.  I think common grounds are under-utilized in our lives.  Is this connected to the size of our homes?  I am reminded of two Latin cultures I've lived in where the homes are much smaller and people outside more.  Granted, climate may have something to do with this.  But for me--rain, sleet, snow or shine--when the walls start to close in, I treat my town like an extension of my living room.  Because I have to.

Gracie and Fergus swing while their mamas get some talking done.

Take the Swings at Little Toots.  When mama needs some therapy time, it's time to get in those swings, kiddos.  I can't count how many friends I've met, and meaningful conversations I've had while pushing, pushing, pushing.  

If it looks like a day when exercise won't happen for me,  we treat the stroller like our car and the bike path like our commute.  Let's walk to Ace Hardware!  Let's walk to Bamboo Market!  Let's walk to the post office!  In this way we can turn mundane car errands into invigorating treasure hunts.   A stop at the park on the way to the hardware store where popcorn is waiting for us is much more fun than a drive in the hot car where I have to literally force the kids into their car seats (not pretty).

So, this is a shout out to all the fantastic public space in our town.  Thanks for helping to pay for it, community!  My family is so blessed to use it nearly every single day!  Hope to see you out there!

Sleep

Sleep: the thing I have ruminated over and talked incessantly about this last year.  Why the last year?  Well, about a year ago, our darling Fergus was born.  He was sent for many reasons, one of which was to put us in our place after all our bragging and credit taking for how well his older brother sleeps.  We thought it had something to do with us!  We thought we did such a great job with "sleep training." HA HA HA!  HA HA! HA!  I can laugh now.  I could also go on and on about how challenging the last year has been in that department.  But I won't.  Catch me at the swings in Little Toots Park, and maybe that will be your chance to hear about it.   But for now, I'd like to use it to illuminate a deficiency in our (marvelous) small home.  We have very little in the way of sleep options.

Take a typical night: boys (presumably) fall asleep in their room.  Fergus first, Mason second.  If we upset this order by putting them in there awake together, peek-a-boo and blanket toss and giggle fest will ensue for about two hours.  Which is cute.  But not so cute when they predictably wake up at 6 am sharp, except extra grumpy.  Then Scott and I have our romantic time which involves at least an hour of dishes, laundry, food, dishes, laundry, food, dishes, laundry, food.  Clean up the floor and put the couch cushions back.  Read between two and ten pages in our books and then pass out.  Half an hour later, like clock work, Fergus starts screaming.  And then two hours later again.  And then two hours later again.  And then two hours later again.  You get my drift.  So should one of us be loosing our minds after a YEAR of this, where would one go in our house?  NO WHERE!  The couch is even closer to the little beasties.

We've considered sleeping in the garage, the car, and the motel down the street.  I've considered going out for a pack of cigarettes and not coming back.  Just kidding.  Sort-of.

So, as you can see dear reader, there are good, sane reasons for extra bedrooms.  This is where "Nana's Casita" comes in.  Hopefully mom realizes that in addition to being a cozy zone for her, we will be in there taking turns ACTUALLY SLEEPING!!

Love you Fergus!!!  Happy Birthday!

We do need to get away!

Attempting to relax after work.

So it is a tad unrealistic to think we all don't need some personal space.  I'm just not sure it needs to be in a separate wing of our home.  I'm a big fan of leaving the house to relax anyway; who wants to look around and see all there is to do?  I, for one, thank all who voted in and are paying for our amazing public library.  It is my second living room, without the vacuuming.  I knew we were comfortable there when Mason did his first public pottying.  Or when the clerks mention they haven't seen us for a few days.

Family Space

Spurred by many, many comments on my last post (most of which were upon seeing my beloved readers around town--love comments written on the blog as well ;), I've been thinking a lot about families in their houses.  And how dwellings contributes to how families work.  Firstly, I've realized I have a goal: I don't want the size of our house to be what our kids remember about it.  I don't want them to recognize it's "smaller" or "bigger" than other homes.  Or has more or less stuff.   What I hope they remember about our home is that it is where they felt safe and loved and (mostly) organized.  Where they laughed a lot,  slept really well, and enjoyed their mother's amazing cooking :)

What is home?  Inside and outside? What do we remember about our childhood homes and how does that impact what we build on this fine earth?  Certainly, the (screaming) man mentioned in the last post who built the 11,000sf home was impacted by his upbringing: "having lots of room is a good thing. Look, he says, his wife grew up in the projects of New Haven, and he grew up without much. He always shared a room with his brother."   Uh-Oh.  Should I be worried that Mason and Fergus will be building homes over 11X as big as ours because they are sharing a room?  Contrast this man with many friends who, even though they have enough bedrooms to give everyone their own, are purposely putting their kids together.  They have such fond memories of sharing.


Certainly, I have limited control over what my boys will remember.  Here we spend all this money on activities and they'll probably just remember digging worms in the garden.  Yet, big house or small house, what's happening inside is what matters most.   Why, exactly, do we need to get away from each other?

I can hear them screaming--and they can hear me!

What happens at our house when Mason needs space.

Our home theatre.  Note the "corral" keeping Fergus from mouthing the TV.

I've been contemplating the ways this home will create who our boys will become.  Architecture as social engineering, if you will.  Will our sons envy families with bigger homes and, in turn, end up building huge houses?  Will they cry out for SPACE? Will they even notice our house is smaller than others?  Will they value the outdoors more? Will they be really good at waiting their turn for the bathroom?   Along this vein, I found a great article written in 2006 on npr.org called "Behind the Ever-Expanding American Dream."


Here is what a man who built an 11,00 square foot home wanted for his family: "I always wanted a house big enough that my kids could be in their room screaming, and my wife could be in a room screaming, and I could be somewhere else and not hear any of them," he says. "And I think I have accomplished this with this house, because this house is so big that everyone has their own space."

WOW! Does this creep anyone else out?  Personally, when I scream, I want my family to hear me!  


Also from the npr.org article, "For John Stilgoe, a professor of landscape history at Harvard University, it's emblematic. "'The big house represents the atomizing of the American family," he says. "Each person not only has his or her own television — each person has his or her own bathroom. Some of these houses are literally designed with three playrooms for two children. This way, the family members rarely have to interact. And the notion of compromise is simply out one of the very many windows these houses sport."


Well, I can say we are interacting in our house.  No shortage of that here.  But,  for what it's worth, Scott and I are the only ones learning to wait for the bathroom.

Who Thinks Our Place is Small?

Felice Cohen in her 90 SF home:  living room, office, kitchen, dining.

"The average size of the American home is shrinking -- it dropped in both 2008 and 2009 after 15 straight years of growth -- but most of us are still living larger than people in the Big Apple. Home size in Manhattan is about half the national average.

One New Yorker has taken her love of frugal living to the extreme. Felice Cohen’s apartment measures just 90 square feet, but she doesn’t see it as a sacrifice. With such a small space, she pays just $700 to live in a part of town where rents average $3,600 per month."

http://shine.yahoo.com/event/green/simple-life-in-manhattan-a-90-square-foot-home-2472666

I'm aware that some would read this blog and think: what is so special about a family of four in 629 square feet?  This size home is fair, especially when viewed in a historical or global context.  Both of my parents were from working class families with four children and they lived in two bedroom homes. In both of their families, my grandparents had one bedroom, the 3 boys shared the other, and the girl slept in a closet. The graphic below shows that as normal for the times.  Keep in mind, families were larger back then.

The real estate boom definitely had a role in this march to a larger and larger home (and now smaller..).  Larger homes were winners with "price per square foot game" added to the "pass the bedroom game." (my personal term for the phenomenon of people buying homes with more bedrooms needed so that the re-sale is better. Then they sell the home to someone  who is doing the same thing.  Lots of empty bedrooms getting passed around.  How about getting what you need now and adding on if you happen to need that 4th bedroom? I digress...)  Now those games are not adding up.  People want to downsize.  For good reasons!  Less Expensive!  Quicker to Clean!  Guests Won't Stay as Long! :) And it is dawning on me: maybe the McMansions were the trend and we are getting back to normal.  Maybe Scott and I live in a regular size house, not a tiny one! Wait! We live in a huge house compared to many in our world.  It has more than one room, after all.

Doesn't look so tiny to me!

Nana's Casita

It's a Family Affair!

There is another great reason why we are cleaning out the "storage" space.  We are turning it into a little satellite bedroom for my mom.  One challenge of the 629sf is a comfy, quiet space for my mom to be.  So, we are turning the back part of 701 Gilpin into her zone.  Here she is teaching Mason to remove nails from the walls in her casita.

Scott is over there today working on plumbing.  Thanks, sweetie!

The Same Ten Square Feet

Everyone in the same 10 Square Feet

Since everyone is always in the same 10-50 square feet, why would we need a bigger house?  Sometimes we are even closer.  This morning I was nursing Fergus with Mason also on my lap asking me to read a book.   And I was drinking coffee, of course!

I got the storage space cleaned out!  Feeling quite a sense of accomplishment!

Making sense of our stuff.

We are almost under just one roof. Where our stuff is concerned I feel a paradox coming on: in my obsession to have as little as possible and be extremely organized I'm more obsessed with stuff than ever!  How big is it?  How much do we use it?  How well is it made?  I feel a bit like the person who says, "it takes me a lot of work to be this peaceful."  I hope to stop thinking about "stuff" soon because we'll be outside playing!!!!

Space Matters

Not all small homes require the adults to dine at the kid's table!

 Part of moving in to our own construction project means not having everything completely dialed right away.  In some ways this is good-it gives us time to be there and see how it lives.  Right now we are using Mason's table and chairs as our dining set. (We set it and everything, just like a normal diner routine.  Except our knees are confused about where to be.)  Soon we will have some sort of built-in eating space.  We are currently re-designing it, of course!

I am learning this small space demands we think about every motion of our daily life.  This may sound cumbersome, but I'm looking at it this way: we are doing this work now, one time, so we don't have to do it over and over.  We are thinking hard about the role of stuff in our life so that we will be free to think about and do other things with our time.  

The built in coat rack.  Looking forward to cycling jacket weather.

 My friend Meg Bently, who owns an organization consulting business, helped me when she said draw concentric circles around your space. The stuff you use daily should be on the inside circle, followed by the weekly use stuff in the next orb, with monthly use on the most outside circle.  With this in mind I just designated a cabinet drawer to dog food.  I took out the appliances I use weekly,  relocating them above the fridge.  

I've been hard at work on our storage unit, with the hopes of having nothing in it!  The matrix I use for downsizing our stuff is the use:size ratio.  How much do we use the item versus how much space does it take up?  Take the Christmas stuff for instance.  We had 3 rubber-made bins designated to this holiday that consumes (pun intended) one month of our life.  Under my matrix, I decided we could have one bin.  Anything we want and don't have once the holiday arrives can be purchased at the second hand store, which is usually overwhelmed with red and green items.  

A fantastic article on storage units in America can be found at: 

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/06/magazine/06self-storage-t.html?cp=1&sq=storage+units+magazine&st=nyt

If I sound righteous, I shouldn't.  I come by this downsizing effort honestly.  I've been a "stuff" person nearly all my life.  I wish I could show you a photo of the home I occupied in my 20's.  It was CRAMMED FULL of stuff.  It has been incredibly hard to part with many of my things.  But once I did, I felt so liberated!

Money Money Money

The groovy roof line=added expense.

Obviously money is a big part of any construction project.  For some projects more than others.  For us, it is where the "rubber meets the road."  I'd like to say we built a tiny house just because it was the right thing to do, but I should be clear here:  we built this house because it was all we could afford.  Even a little more than we could afford....

Hopefully I won't scare any readers away when I say the construction budget is a great metaphor for marriage.    We built our first home together when we were dating 7 years ago and felt that if we could build a house, we could build a marriage.  I don't think we were that far off.

With limited funds you must decide what your priorities are as a couple.  Sometimes you have to let go of your ideas to come up with a solution that will work for both of you.  Do I sound like a marriage counselor? We are lucky in that we agree it's worth it to put good money into stuff you can't see: tight framing, excellent insulation, ventilation, triple pane windows.  But, all this stuff adds up.  Then you get to the stuff you do see and have no money left! Which is why we've lived on plywood floors for a good part of our marriage.  Is is too much to ask for finished floors?  For siding? For a complete lighting package?  Should we take our friend Ray's advice and just pay the money and do it right?  I believe his words were: "Cry once and buy the right thing.  Don't keep crying over and over again because you have the wrong thing."

We incurred debt on this home in a sketchy real estate climate, and constantly ask ourselves, how could we have made it less expensive?  We don't want debt!  Well, we could of built a box and it would have been cheaper.   But look at that super sweet roof line!  In addition to being energy efficient, this home will be beautiful for generations.  We could of bought cheap goods at home depot and ripped them out next year when either they broke or we hated them.  But that's wasteful (and stupid).  We could be living on plywood again.  But as I know from experience: then you will always be living on plywood.   So, we tried to do it right with this one, agreeing to pay for it now, not later.

701 Gilpin Street Part 2

I did have one other concern about the house.  The prior tenant claimed to have heat bills that were $1200/month.  Yikes!  That's like a mortgage payment!  We descended on the house with foam guns and caulking: replacing windows, weatherizing, and even walling off and decommissioning an entire wing with a bedroom and bathroom.  Our bills ended up being $125-175/month.  The two year old still ran around naked, and we were warm enough with our down coats on.

Here is my principal question after moving out: why wasn't this home good enough for us?  Why did we have to build another?  Our basic shelter needs were met here: we (usually) had running water, functioning sewer, and a leak-free roof.  The greatest hardships I experienced here were dish-pan hands, higher gas bills than I wanted and a grumbly husband who had to service the frozen pipes and roof leaks.  Not exactly a horrible life.

I remember an epiphany I had while I pursued my education in sustainable construction: the greenest house is the one you don't build.  Constructing anything means using more energy, resources, carbon, and money than that dwelling can ever give back.  Even LEED buildings fall under this category.  So why not keep 701 Gilpin?  It's still working as a house.  Why tear it down and build another?

I'd like to think it's because we're trying to get better--that we are trying to update a housing stock that is becoming obsolete.  There is a movement underway called the "Living Building Challenge."  Living Buildings are to be designed in such a way as to function as organisms--regenerating their environment. Pretty heady stuff.  See: http://ilbi.org/  Under this definition, 701 is not a living building.

I'll end on a somewhat humorous note.  When we applied for a demolition permit, the home had to undergo review with the local Historical Commission.  Their summary, "Since the building has no known individual historical significance, does not contribute to a proposed district, no longer contributes to the distinguishing characteristics of the neighborhood, and does not retain integrity.." demolition is allowed.

701 Gilpin Street Part 1

First, I need to express my deep gratitude to the home on 701 Gilpin Street for not only housing us, but sheltering many others since its construction in 1940.  In so many ways it has done its job as a dwelling.  

I do not say this next thing lightly: it is 2011, oil is over $100 a barrel,  and this home's job is coming to an end.  

701 Gilpin.  Uncut. One naked baby on my hip and another in my belly.

When we first purchased this property I was clear that I would never never never live in the house on it.  It was fairly scary to me.  For instance, the neighbors affectionately refer to it as the, "asbestos spider ranch."  (They didn't share this name with me until after we moved in. Thanks guys.)  Yes, it contains asbestos and spiders.  The asbestos is safely contained and the spiders, contrary to the last tenants claims, are NOT Black Widows. 

The more we wanted to move to town, and build a little place on the lot, the more this home became a possibility for us. (What is that my friend Sarah always says about the word "never"?!?) We called our renters to see if we could do a walk-through and make a decision. 

It was pretty rough: broken windows, one of which was replaced by Plexiglass and cardboard, a stove with two broken burners, leaky faucets, a broken toilet top, another toilet falling through the floor, rotting wood in the shower surround, sagging ceilings and floors throughout, nasty carpet, holes in the floor, a bee bee gun target in the living room, a bullet hole in the front door glass, tons of junk all over the lot including a water heater, a mattress, 5 broken bikes, tires, dumb-bells (?), an old Pepsi machine (??).  I should stop.  We sound like slum lords.  This is the truth: OUR RENTERS LOVED THIS PLACE!!  We had a group of guys living here for 10 years before we owned it and they called it home.  For them it was ideal: inexpensive rent, close to town, and not fussy.  For a family with two small children, it didn't seem so ideal.  Specifically, the broken windows and the holes in the floor had me worried.

Breaking Ground

Up our home came out of the ground.  We were lucky enough to have the aforementioned "dilapidated" home on the same lot, and we lived there for 10 months while we built.  (Don't fret readers!  Some doozy photos of this home to follow, along with diatribe on building with energy costs in mind, not to mention a tape measure and a level.)  For parents of two year olds, I can't recommend enough having excavating equipment working  in your front yard all summer.  The excavating contractor was Mason's hero.    And I loved being able to buzz over and help Scott when my mom helped with the kids. Thanks Mom! 

Scott worked every single day for 10 months.  I was glad he was close by. The details involved in construction are phenomenal and nearly all of our time together was spent making decisions related to the home.  We spent a lot of time in the initial design phase, as drawing such a small space for a family proved challenging.  Specifically,  fitting two bedrooms in 629 sf was hard.  Scott will write more on design later, as he is the one who did that work.  My point right now is that we were in framing before we really rolled up our sleeves to make choices on products.  The days were spent building and the nights were at the computer researching and choosing....not my forte.  I'd rather be working on site.

 I was in charge of taking the home through the local Green Building Program.  We are the second home in Routt County and the first one in the City of Steamboat to enter the program.  It is a holistic approach to building, focusing on Energy Efficiency, Resource Conservation, Water Conservation, Site Protection, and a Healthy Home.  We are required to have a third-party inspect and test the home to make sure we do what we say we will do.  We hired Chad Faegler with Mountain Energy Consultants to do the rating, verification, and testing.  Our initial HERS rating, based on a plan take-off is at 72, which is 28% better than the average code-built home.   We obviously hope to bring it in even lower.  Our energy bill calculation is at $240.00 a year.  HECK YEA!!!  Compare that to the house next door at $125.00 per month.  I think my next post will be on that house.  I need to get it out of my system....

We are in town!

This is our little family.  Scott, Megan, Mason (2) and Fergus (9mos).  A year ago we were living on 35 acres in a 1700 square-foot home 17 miles out of town.  After much soul searching we decided this life was not realistic nor sustainable for us.  We had lots of space, garden potatoes and home-canned goods, but we were driving to the tune of 70 miles per day, and I was getting lonely during my long days at home with the kiddos.   As much as I wanted to be a "stay at home-steader," I am just not cut of that cloth.

Enter Steamboat Springs, the "little city" 17 miles down the road.  For its small population of 12,000 it has a lot to offer a small family: two ski areas, two hot springs, a recreation facility WITH childcare, rivers, mountains, trains, trails, parks, an amazing library, and most importantly, other growing families.  Yet, as with most desireable places, it is a very expensive place to make your life.  In 2009 the median home value was $482,914, with the average wage around $30,000.  Buying a typical 3 bedroom/2 bath home was way out of our league.  So, we started brain-storming.  Rent?  We are always averse to this.  Move somewhere else?  Just for a house?  That seemed dramatic.

We had a couple of things on our side: we bought an investment property (with a very dilapidated house on it)  in town with my mom 5 years ago.    We own a construction company.  I have a background in sustainable construction.  However, we had very little capital with which to build.  And, we were not certain real estate is a great investment at this time.  But, we needed a dwelling.  Our company could use another home for the portfolio, specifically a sustainably built one.  And the kids needed a construction site to cut their teeth on.

We decided to build the smallest, most sustainable dwelling we could afford.  Scott designed a 629 square-foot apartment above a garage custom made for us.  We entered it as the second home in the local Green Building Program.  And we broke ground while holding our breath........