It's Zero Degrees Here

That's right, it's hovering below freezing here and our children are running around the house as if it's June.  I do not credit their Irish/German blood.  We have plenty of desirable clothing around for them to wear.  We are not pretending we are in Cirque Du Soleil.  No, I give all the credit to our kick-ass house.   The heat was not even turned on until November, and for that month our heat bill was $30 ($15 after all the hoo-ha fees Atmos imposes).  In the last 24 hours our heat has been on probably 4 times for about 10 minutes each.  This with below zero temps.

INSULATION, AIR SEALING, AND SOLAR DESIGN ARE WORTH IT!!!!!

Published!

For those of you who haven't see the latest Homelink Magazine, our little place got some press! Here is the article with photos capturing the cleanest our house will ever be!

http://homelinkmag.com/homelink_summer2012_builder_perspectives_downsizing.html

HomeLink Summer 2012
Sustainable Building. Sustainable Living.

BY: Megan Moore-Kemp
Photos by Eric Stubbs Photography

Big Home
Little Space

“Mom, our house is BIG.  But you always say it’s small.”
Mason Kemp, age 3

“You can make enough money to not need things, or you can just not need things.”
Gilad Elbaz, inventor and investor

 

Returning to my childhood home as an adult, I was astounded by how much smaller the space was than I remembered.  After asking around, I’ve come to find this is a fairly common experience.  While the bedrooms were tiny and the kitchen lacked windows, my memories were large and bright: plenty of room for dancing to Crystal Gayle, chasing the cats, and playing Pop Goes the Weasel in my laundry basket.  I didn’t have any concept of what it lacked, because it had everything I needed: my parents, my Strawberry Shortcake comforter and space to do my dancing.

Two years ago, I was pregnant with Mason’s little brother Fergus, living on thirty-five acres in a 1700 square-foot home seventeen miles out of town.  After much soul searching, my husband and I decided this life was neither realistic nor sustainable for us.  We had lots of space, garden potatoes and home-canned goods, but we were driving to the tune of seventy miles per day, and I was lonely during my long days at home with our son.

Buying a typical three-bedroom/two-bath home in Steamboat was beyond our means.  So, we started brainstorming.  Rent?  We are always averse to this.  Move away?  Just for a house?  That seemed dramatic.

We had a couple of things on our side.  Seven years ago, with my mother, we bought an investment property in town with a very dilapidated 1940s rental house on it.  We couldn’t move into the home, because we couldn’t afford to live long-term without the rental.  Could we build something next to the rental house?  We do, after-all, own and operate a sustainability focused construction company—hello sweat equity! Our biggest hurdles were going to be the very little capital with which we had to build something and the zoning restrictions of the lot.

We decided to build the smallest, most sustainable dwelling we could afford right next to the existing rental house.  Scott designed a 629 square-foot apartment above a garage custom made for us.  We had about $100/square foot to work with, including the garage.  Even this tight budget was a stretch for us.  We met our budget by doing as much work as we could ourselves, re-using as many materials from prior projects as possible, and thinking hard about what we could postpone until a later date.   

During design, it was a challenge not to dwell on what we were giving up—the second bathroom, an office, a mudroom.  We worked to focus on what the little house would bring us: the opportunity to build an efficient, healthy home, the chance to (drastically) downsize our things, more walking and biking, and finally, the ability to spend more time together doing the things we love to do because we are not working to maintain a larger home than we need.

All of our interior and exterior design elements were chosen to work with the materials we had available.  Using wood from an 1880s barn we deconstructed, our friend Mitch Porter built the cabinets.  Our claw-foot tub was taken from a home we remodeled in Oak Creek.  The interior trim is all salvaged or saved wood from prior projects.  Until we have money and time for something fancier, our deck railing is re-used dimensional framing lumber.  The exterior wainscoating is corrugated roofing from the old barn.  Most of the wood siding is regionally harvested beetle killed pine. 

More money was budgeted proportionally for a few key things: energy efficiency and noise control.  We purchased the most energy-efficient insulation, windows, appliances and gas fireplace we could afford.  Our insulation is a combination of spray-foam and blown in fiberglass.  Big effort was put towards air sealing, with high attention paid to detailing during construction—including two blower door tests and a fresh-air ventilation system.  This has definitely paid off.  Our heat is only on for four months a year, with natural gas bills totaling just $200 for the season.  We control noise with cork flooring, triple pane windows, sound control panels on the garage ceiling and insulation in the interior walls.  This has also been worth it.  Scott can work in the garage, trucks can move through the distributor warehouse across the street, music can play, and mommy can still sleep in!

To accommodate for the future, and manage our budget, we worked for flexibility in our design.  Right now we have a storage space which can be converted to a sleeping loft once the boys are bigger and can manage a ladder.  At some point, we will build more specific furniture and storage.  The garage could become the hang-out zone once the boys want to be farther than five feet away from us.

Our actions are definitely unique to new parents in our country.  The average family home today is 2,343 square feet.  Parents work hard to maintain the family home.  Instead of adding square footage along with a growing family, we chose to take it away.  Our goal is to emphasize experience over income and social standards.   Basically, we want to spend more time outside than inside.  The house is an experiment for us: how efficient can we be with our money, time and energy?

When I am feeling philosophical, I also view our choice as an experiment in social engineering.  Our boys will know how to share a bathroom.  We are learning how to carve out our own little meaningful personal spaces.  Everyone is involved in carting laundry to and from the washing machine in the garage.  We are disciplined in choosing what we purchase for the house, and putting our stuff away. 

The space works for us right now.  Surprisingly, better than I expected.  There was a phase of downsizing that entailed obsessively thinking about what stuff we keep, and what we get rid of, and what is the perfect stuff for this size house, and just a lot of thinking about stuff, which is, thankfully, over. The boys have very specific, space conscious toys.  (The child-height mirror on the wall being my current favorite—so great for dancing!)   We have an office area, a coat and shoe zone and cozy sleeping spaces.  Our kitchen is the best.  A few weeks worth of groceries costs more than our annual heating bill.  We don’t lack for sunshine and fresh air. Mason and Fergus think our house is BIG.  I’d say we’ve settled in—without having to settle a bit. 

Out With the New, in With the Old

I love my husband who will take my photo with the laundry basket and not ask any questions

I recently called my mom and asked, "Do you have any extra laundry baskets lying around?  Our plastic one has a hole in the bottom, side, and is missing a handle."  To which she replied, "Oh, yes, I think so.  Hmmm, oh yea, I have that one we got in Mexico the year before you were born.  You could use that one."  

Seriously?!?  My mom has a functioning laundry basket that is older than I am?  The one that just bit the dust--albiet, after much use as a play house, launch pad, and train car--was only 5 years old.  This was an epiphany for me: buy the good stuff, take care of it, and you can give it to your kids when they are in need.   And, when they use it to death, it will be an added bonus if it can bio-degrade in the land-fill or, better yet, compost pile.   However unimaginable it seems right now that my boys will be as excited as I am over a laundry basket.

Clothing

A significant amount of storage in our place is dedicated to clothing

 It's that time of year....down come the bins full of summer clothes--and in the case of the boys, BIGGER summer clothes--to be traded out with the too-small items, sweaters, fleece pants, and Levi's we won't wear again till fall.  

This was a crazy idea. 

If I sound excited, don't be fooled.  It is one of my least favorite chores around here.  With the sprouting children, I have to do it about every three months, and faithfully put it off till the last possible moment, when they are running around sweltering in sweatpants, or shoving themselves into tight, stained T-shirts.  It can be quite an undertaking, especially when the boys are helping!

However, while getting out my own summer gear last week, I was down right thoughtful about the process. I credit this to two developments: our new, microscopic closet, and, a greater understanding of myself.

First, I discovered I had bagged up a nice little pile last fall to go to the consignment shop.  Way to think ahead about trading!  However, this required me to both iron and introduce my two year old to this modern appliance, which I did on the front porch--I'd recommend an outdoor ironing tutorial to anyone.  It's what got us through the chore.

I've decided to give myself the "closet challenge."  Over this summer, I will try to wear each item in my closet, to test its mettle in my current life.    If something is the least bit uncomfortable, high-maintenance, weird, magnetic to dog hair, stained, or just plain wrong--it's out.  I expect to have very little left by fall.  And then, I hope to slowly re-build what I will call--at the risk of sounding like a total weirdo--"my collection."  Because that is my goal--rather than have a bunch of clothes I consume at random, I'd like to collect what will really work for me for the long-term.   I wore a dress yesterday, to great community surprise.  Evidently, it's a keeper.  Today I got lazy and put on my same-old yoga pants.  They are keepers--but, I already knew that.

I found a great blog by a woman who calls herself Miss Minimalist which outlines how to create your "capsule" of only ten items of clothing. Here are hers:

 (You can check out her philosophy at: http://www.missminimalist.com/2011/03/the-minimalist-wardrobe-aka-the-10-item-wardrobe/)

Obviously, those shoes wouldn't work for me.  Can you picture me chasing two strider bikes in those?

Wish me luck!

Life With The Big Dogs

It's surprising it has taken me a whole year of writing this blog to mention our two big dogs, Cassie and O'Kane.  I really should call the blog 6in629, since our dogs are the size of small people.  However, you cannot put small people in the garage all day when you need space from them, so I'll stop the people:dog analogies right now.  I used to think of my dogs as my children, until I actually had children and realized I couldn't lock them in a kennel all night to prevent them from waking me.

Perhaps they have avoided my critical eye because they have adapted so well to our space.  They each have their bed at night, which I pull up during the day--so we can navigate the main room easier--and wool rugs in our bedroom during the day.  If it's getting intense up here, they go to the garage or the yard or off to work with Scott.  When we moved in, I  bought some nicer looking dog bowls since they are so visible in the space.  We designed one kitchen cabinet to hold their dog food.  Other than that, we haven't done much else to accommodate the dogs.

I sense it could be our last summer with our Cassie.  She is somewhere between 11 and 13, blind, loosing hair, weight, and her back end.  We've got her on thyroid pills and rimadyl, without much effect.  It's getting hard for her to get up and down the stairs.  I'm in this pre-mourning phase which I have practiced with all my dogs since I was six.  The pre-mourning involves imagining life without them, which seems like having a big hole you will have to navigate around forever.  Truly, life seems unimaginable without Cassie.   For being so large, she is the least demanding, most quiet, forgiving, and motionless member of our family.  Which is a nice balance to the rest of us.

OH, and I forgot about Loony Luna!  7in629.....but she's technically not allowed inside.  Even though she manages to evade us.....

Speaking of Trading

By far one of the most beneficial trades I  do is working for our membership at the Old Town Hot Springs.  With just three hours a week of work, I get a membership for our whole family.  This includes the gym,  exercise classes, lap pool, hot springs, and, of course, the essential child care room.  This place has changed my life.  I am able to get my exercise without a summit of synchronizing schedules between my husband and I .  AND, we even get a "date night" every Monday when we work out together.  (Even though I have been forbade from kissing him in the weight room.  It was worth trying.) The place is heaven to me.  On a very hard day with my children, I always know I can take them to the lovely child care room and take a moment to myself,  after which we will all emerge happy.

What is so wonderful about this particular trading situation is that I can bring my children with me while I work.  Where else can you get your family ahead, with your children in-tow?  While the trade is worth an equivalent to $9/hr, if you factor in that you don't have to pay for day-care while you make that money, it is actually worth closer to $20/hr.  And that makes me feel like MONEY!!

Three Cheers for Bartering!

Can anyone tell me why this ugly old propane heater is making me so happy right now?

We just traded this brown thing taking up space in our garage for a new, crystal-clear, crack-free Subaru windshield.  And let me tell you, I feel like MONEY! To my chagrin, after my windshield was installed, the bartering just continued.  Prepared to pay a commission to our friend who stored the heater in his stove shop and set up the deal, he said, "No money!  Just help us install a new front door, and we'll pay you for your extra time.  Oh, and go on a river trip with us this summer."  OK!

 This trade has me extra impassioned about the barter economy.   I've used this little under-ground economy quite a bit in the past.  When I owned a food business, I traded sandwiches for massages, manicures, pedicures, facials, and land-scape design. OMG I was so glamorous back then.  Now I'm excited by a windshield.

In what ways has our current economy effected the barter economy? After all, isn't this the original economy? It makes sense that we would return to it in hard economic times.   I rather like the idea of just trading things for things rather than working for money to trade the money for the things.  In some ways, bartering seems to give the items being traded a more true value.  The two parties agree to its worth, in a very personal way, rather than the infinitely complex monetary economy brewing around us.

Now, we need to find something to trade for the new mountain bike Scott is dreaming about.