The Tiny Home of Maud Lewis

The home of Canadian painter Maud Lewis.

Maud and Everett Lewis' house, in rural southwest Nova Scotia, was small. I have seen estimates ranging from 90 to 170 square feet, a tiny, tiny home by any measure. 

To make things more challenging, the home had no running water, no power, and was far from neighbours. They lived in the house (cottage? cabin? hut? shed?) from 1938 to 1970.

Wait, there's more. Maud Lewis was affected by rheumatoid arthritis, and her hands eventually became bent and crippled. 

Mr. Lewis grew a small garden behind the house, dug for clams, and caught fish in tide pools, which he peddled in the area. He also cared for his wife as she was unable to assist with chores. She could barely hold her paint brushes.

Not only did they live without most everything we take for granted today, they lived without many of the things people back then possessed.

And yet, Maud created classic Canadian folk art that was whimsical and full of joy and colour. People that knew her, said she was a happy person, but was most happy while painting.

Three Black Cats - one of my favourite Maud Lewis paintings.

What the Lewis home lacked in size and amenities it made up for in sheer artistic delight. Every surface was covered with splashes of bright paint depicting flowers and animals, birds and trees.

While the artist never ventured any farther afield than her immediate locality, she lived a vital life, produced much beloved art, and contributed to her community in a way that put it on the art lover's map.

All in 90 to 170 square feet.

Snowshoeing To Winter Cabin

First I pass through an old hemlock forest of giant woody columns holding a roof of snow canopies.

I can't think of a better way to end the year than by going for my first snowshoe of the winter. There was also a mission I needed to complete - get a winter photo of a snow-covered cabin for our blog banner so I can observe the official change of seasons.

Going down.

The cabin is on a brook in a valley behind my home. Going down on snowshoes is much more forgiving than boots on the ground. It is puffy, floaty, slidey, fun. Sharp pokey things are covered - everything is child-proofed and one can go anywhere and do anything.

Next to weightlessness, this is the best possible liberation from the potentially dangerous effects of gravity and friction while hiking. It never fails to put a smile on my face.

Impossibly puffy puffiness of fresh powdery snow.

Jumping and sliding down the valley side to the brook does not take long. The water is a tranquil spot to enjoy the sound of moving water, be still for a few moments, and see the scene, while being seen by the scene in turn.

At moments like this, spirits merge.

The winter landscape feels like a Chinese watercolour painting.

After reaching the brook I move upstream toward the cabin, which is on the other side of the water. Soon, there it is, all tucked in.

What a get-away. No power. No phone. No billboards. No shopping. No fences. No Gates. I'm not even sure if there is a road to the cabin.

I wonder what it would be like to live here. Very, very simple. Challenging. A lot of hard work. A deep solitude and tranquility - total separation from the affairs of humanity (or "inhumanity").

I think about pulling a Henry David Thoreau, naming this spot "Walden, Too", and embarking on an extended retreat. Never mind extended, even one night out here would be magical. Imagine a week. A month. Or a year.

My reveries are interrupted by the fact that the fading light had faded further. I start back up the hill, avoiding groves of conifers because their snow-draped canopies make it even darker below them. There is more snow under the open canopies of deciduous forest, and there the snowshoeing is best.

Everything looks unfamiliar and new in a thick winter jacket, but my homing instinct is strong. I get to the edge of the forest and start across the field. I see my own "cabin" at the top of the slope.

My "cabin" - heat, light, food, clean drinking water, and Linda are inside. Almost there.

I feel fortunate, recharged, and ready for another orbit around the Sun on this beautiful planet. It is good to be riding with all of you.  

Professor Dumpster

Dr. Dumpster's diminutive dives.

Jeff Wilson, a Texas teacher of biological sciences, is a person dedicated to teaching by example. He didn't just live in a tiny home the size of a dumpster - his home for a year long experiment in sustainability was a dumpster.

Therefore his nickname, Professor Dumpster.

The Dr. of Dumpsterism perfected the craft of thriving in a 33 square foot former waste receptacle on the grounds of his school in Austin. Rather than lament the loss of luxury, Wilson sings the praises of really small footprint living.

Some of the immediate advantages he found were:

• lower rent
• lower utility payments
• owning fewer things
• less time spent doing chores
• shorter commute (about 90 seconds on foot)
• less money spent on unnecessary possessions
• more community involvement
• reduced mental noise

Most of all, Professor Wilson said that living lightly gave him a new sense of freedom. And while shacking up in his humble abode involved some sacrifice, he said that he cried when his project ended and he moved out.

You don't need to dwell in a dumpster to feel the goodness of small footprint living. Its benefits can be realized anywhere in any place, one decision at a time.

The Bunkie Blues

The mythical Eastern Canadian bunkie provides simple, basic shelter and relief from excess.

Before visiting eastern Canada I had never heard of a bunkie. After finding out what they are, I have wanted one of my own.

A bunk, bunkie, or bunkhouse is a sensibly small economical shelter that provides sleeping space that may or may not be in shared quarters. They are usually used to provide extra space for guests, but also provide space away from a main home or cottage. They are often used as space for artistic pursuits, and many are off-grid due to being in remote locations.

From the cottage country of Ontario all the way to the Maritimes the bunkie is the thing. They are on to something, but you can keep the cottage. All I need is the little bunkie.

I am not the only one attracted to the antonym of McMansion. Other tiny shelter enthusiasts have described these diminutive dwellings as, "quiet retreats", or "the perfect sanctuaries along life's journey", and "small detached hideaways".

Bunkies are usually in beautiful locations close to nature.

Bunkies are remembered fondly by those that have stayed in them. An extended stay in a bunkie can even change lives.

Poet Ellery Channing knew the creative potential of time spent in a small shelter set in beautiful natural surroundings. In a letter to Henry David Thoreau he advised that Thoreau build a bunkie in the woods, "and there begin the grand process of devouring yourself alive. I see no other alternative, no other hope for you."

Modern bunkie.

Henry David took up the bunkie challenge and not only saved himself, but experienced there a burst of creative inspiration that still profoundly influences us today.

The bunkie that inspired Thoreau to write "Walden".

Like Thoureau hankering for his original bunkie in the woods after returning to civilization in Concord  at the end of his year, I have the bunkie blues. But I don't want the cottage to go with it - just the bunkie in the woods by the lake.

That would be enough.

Bivouacking

Another beautiful out of the way bivouac in the center of
a small New Brunswick town.

I have always loved the quick, no-frills, independent nature of bivouacking. It makes me feel light and free.

I am familiar with bivouacking from my experiences backpacking in the Rocky Mountains. The term describes a light, temporary (overnight) shelter or resting site, usually on the way to a distant destination.

The requirements were minimal, and sites were chosen for convenience and ease of use. Most often they were beautiful as well. Being unofficial and random, they were always free of charge.

Sometimes while in the wilderness we would string a tarp as a minimal shelter under the trees. At other times we slept open on the ground, laying our sleeping bags right on the trail. The next morning all we had to do was get up, have a bite to eat, shoulder the back pack and keep on hiking.

More recently, since leaving the west coast June 1st Linda and I have spent 20 days and 20 nights traveling. Each of the nights has been bivouacking. Each day we drive until a couple hours before sunset, then start looking for a temporary site to park for the night.

Requirements? It must be not far off our route, and it must be free. And if it is naturally gorgeous near a lake, ocean, or river, so much the better. But it could also be a Walmart parking lot.

Over the past 20 days we have bivouacked at truck stops, museum parking lots, gravel side roads, roadside pullouts, visitor information buildings, rest areas, and yes, even Walmart parking lots (we did NOT go inside the store).

We have had a different temporary stop every night creating a memory-taxing, lengthening list of  locations. But each of those changes is followed by the comfortable familiarity of the highway in the morning.

While it is generally true that some may wish to limit the possibilities for bivouacking, preferring that you pay to sleep, with a little imagination and patience one can always find a quick, no charge temporary site to rest from a day of constant motion.

This is true for the mountain wilderness as well as the wilderness found on the road from coast to coast.

It is good to know that commerce hasn't taken over absolutely 100% of our land and our lives. I love that we can still bivouac and be free.

Tiny Home vs Van

One evening while traveling we pulled into a tiny town. The local mall happened to have a tiny home on display in the parking lot. Feeling a kinship between this diminutive domicile and our own Lilliputian lair, we nestled in next to it for the night.

The next morning I had a sunrise walkabout in the parking lot and gopher field next door. I couldn't help but notice that the tiny home and our van were very similar. The tiny trailer home had some information posted in the window making a comparison possible.

The tiny home was 7 feet by 14 feet. Our van is 6.6 ft by 17.6 ft.

Our van is a bit longer than a standard tiny home, almost as wide, and not quite as tall.

The tiny home has a small porch in front which is about big enough to store one bicycle. Our van's wheelchair lift can be used as a porch for one to sit on, and the back rack has room for three bicycles.

Our van  is well constructed, and so was the tiny home. Inside though, the van wins hands down. The little house on wheels had a front room, a back room with two bunks, and a sleeping loft. It was nice, but that was all that was inside.

Our van on the other hand is completely self-sufficient. We have a bed, a single burner camp stove, 25 litres of water, a wash basin (actually it's an oven roaster doing double duty until we get to our destination), a cooler for food requiring refrigeration, and last but certainly not least, a commode.

We also have a "loft" over the bed area that acts as a large storage space. 2 small kids could sleep up there comfortably.

In the end they are similar, but right now I prefer the van.

The tiny home information did say that a photovoltaic system was included, which is something that Linda and I do not yet have. While we can live without electricity, having a no-emissions method of producing power would make things a bit more comfortable and convenient.

Bottom line on the tiny home was $18,000, and you would still need a vehicle to tow it to its destination. Our van cost us $8500 ($5500 plus our old truck), and it moves on down the highway just fine on its own. With the extra $10,000 dollars we could live the nomadic life for a long time.

That's it - for me, the van wins.

Mini-size My Home

An adorable and affordable 400 sq. ft. home in Nova Scotia, Canada.

There are not many small houses where I live on the west coast of Canada. Houses here, based on a rough estimate, range from 1,500 to 3,500 sq. ft with the average being around 2,400.

In the upper range are homes of 5,000 to 9,000 square feet.

Prices range from about $350,000 up to several million, with the average house price in my immediate area being a resoundingly unaffordable $490,000.

The east coast of Canada is a different story.

Nova Scotia has a vast inventory of small houses at the bottom end of the size range, with many houses in the range of 300 to 1000 square feet. Prices range from $20,000 to $50,000, which often includes several acres of land.

The inside of the mini-sized home is very practical and functional.

I like the efficiency of living in small spaces. It must be attractive to others too - just look at the words realtors use to describe houses in the bottom end of the size range. I have seen small homes described as "cozy", or "quaint",  or "adorable".

Even better is "easy to heat".

But my favourite realtor adjective used to describe smaller homes is "affordable".

Smaller homes put the concept of enough into practice.

As has been pointed out in our "house size forum", a well-built large home may use less resources to run than its small, poorly built counterpart.

But by that same logic, it is also true that a small, well-built home would be even better yet.

One of these inside a tiny home and a woodlot out back can go a long way toward being prepared
for inevitable energy shortages and price increases.

I want my shelter to be Mini-sized. Smaller dwellings use less resources to build, heat or cool, and maintain. To me it feels like the nature-endorsed way to go.

Plus they are just so darn cozy.

Homesteading Wish List

Yesterday we celebrated giving our notice to move out of our beach home. As of June 1st we will be officially homeless, although we prefer to call it being "on the road" for a while. It is a very exciting time for us as we transition into the next phase of our lives.

For years we have been brainstorming what our ideal sanctuary might look like. Below is the  homesteading wish list that we have come up with.

• 2 to 10 acres of land
• a few acres of forest
• a pond, stream, or river 
• chickens
• goats
• rain barrels
• wind turbine
• wood stove
• tiny home of 350 - 900 square feet
• area for large garden near house
• root cellar
• fruit trees
• solar panels
• solar hot water heating
• clean non-fracked well water
• no mines, fracking, polluting industry or development of any kind in the area.
• no extreme hot or cold weather

And if that is not enough, we want the land and home to cost less than $50,000 dollars. There is only one place in Canada that can provide what we want at the price we are willing to pay - the East Coast.

It looks like we are going to have a 6000 kilometre cross-country adventure in our near future. First though, we need to pare down our possessions to what will fit in the back of our truck, a space about the size of a small closet.

In order to achieve our homesteading goal we are going to have to go extremely minimal first. We are both looking forward to dumping our excess baggage and being light and free for a while.

Then, Sanctuary.

Entertaining Walden Pond Style

Three chairs - "one for solitude, two for friendship, three for society".

Why do people desire larger houses? Can't a person entertain guests in a Walden Pond-like 150 square foot tiny home?

One of the reasons many who love big houses give for wanting the large interior space of a boutique hotel is to entertain and have room for guests.

Gleaning comments from our post on Average House Size By Country (NBA's most viewed post ever)  I came up with the following:

"I want to have space for people to visit and stay, and space to host bigger parties and events." 

"I like having separate bedrooms and bathrooms for guests."  

"I like having friends and family stay with me."

"What I am really looking forward to is the luxury that we will be able to host guests comfortably. We can now host exchange students, and know that any visiting friends with children, or our elderly relatives will be more comfortable during their stay. They can recuperate from socialising in their own room rather than being confined to the living room or one of the children's bedrooms."  

Although I admire the generosity of wanting to be a gracious host, I don't entirely understand what lots of room has to do with it unless you have an urge to be an innkeeper. What ever happened to sleeping on an air mattress on the floor?

In the tiny space of my home there is no hazard of losing guests. Everyone can hear anything more than a discreetly camouflaged fart regardless of where they are, making any visit a very sociable affair.

You can't run, or hide. If you come here, we WILL be visiting, which in my view, is the whole reason  for guests in the first place.

Henry David Thoreau didn't like big houses for a variety of reasons, including their influence on social interactions. He thought that small houses fostered more rousing visits.

"I had three chairs in my house; one for solitude, two for friendship, three for society. When visitors came in larger and unexpected numbers there was but the third chair for them all, but they generally economized the room by standing up. 

It is surprising how many great men and women a small house will contain. I have had twenty-five or thirty souls, with their bodies, at once under my roof, and yet we often parted without being aware that we had come very near to one another."

If Thoreau's 150 square feet can host 25 or 30 souls, I imagine my small home could fit over 100 comfortably. Granted, sleeping space, if needed, would be at a premium. 

My Favourite Tiny Home Is A Tent

In the wilderness this tiny home is luxury accommodation.

I have never owned a house. But I have a great tent. It is like a tiny, tiny, tiny home that can be carried great distances on my back to scenic locations. It is perfect for the nomad in me.

According to the specs, my current tent provides an "exceptionally roomy" 3.34 sq. m (36 sq. ft.) of space that sleeps two comfortably. It has two doors and a skylight for stargazing, but no indoor plumbing.

It is a four season tent, meaning it can be used in most any Canadian wilderness situation imaginable. Indeed, I have had the pleasure of sleeping in it in all four seasons and in a variety of locations and conditions.

The tent has been luxury accommodation while sea kayaking in a raging summer deluge as dusk raced us to the campsite. After pulling up on shore among long shadows and setting up in the dripping trees, the dependable shelter kept us warm, dry, and happy until morning.

What more can one expect in the wild, several kilometres out and a few hours of paddling from the nearest road? At the time it felt like a secure fort in the middle of nowhere. More like a safety pod actually.

This 3 sq. m of safety has been set up on lonely beaches of sand where any hope of rescue comes in the form of a helicopter or boat. It has also temporarily resided on several meters of snow at backcountry sites in the Rocky Mountains.

Some of the best sleeps of my life have been in the tent in nature. On good nights, in the right location, say a mountain meadow, before falling asleep one can see starlight shining through the fabric. But I swear that very same flimsy barrier makes me feel better about being in bear country.

This tiny structure has made the difference on several occasions between extreme discomfort or death and a scary but otherwise secure trip. It is my backcountry security blanket, which to a large degree, is what we are talking about from McMansions to pup tents.

It is possible to live without shelter at all, at least for a while.

I have also spent nights crashed out on the hard ground, sometimes in a sleeping bag, and on hot nights, simply laying in the grass or on the sand. Of course, I have also woken up to mice jumping repeatedly on my sleeping bag and sliding to the sand, so some sort of shelter is nice.

And when it is time to move on my tiny, tiny, tiny home fits into a small packable bag measuring 51 cm x 25 cm (20" x 10") .

Stainless steel appliances optional.

Micro Houses Monday

Hand built micro home made with repurposed materials.

There are tiny homes, and then there are micro homes. I have always been interested in small hand built dwellings just large enough to get the job done. Such structures provide a warm, dry micro footprint, and they are often appealing in their craftsmanship and utility.

Another micro home, stark in its simplicity.

The original guide to building anything from a micro to a tiny home is the 1914 book "Shacks, Shelters, and Shanties" by D.C. Beard. Although marketed as a guide for "boys of all ages", there is something in it for anyone that wishes to build their own shelter.

A nice mobile micro home.

The classic 'you can build it' book describes how to create over 50 dwellings from the most primitive lean to up to a fully equipped log cabin. All the structures can be built from local materials, and would degrade harmlessly back into the environment after their useful life.

Warm, dry, simple, cozy.

A micro home meets the basic shelter needs of the occupants just as well as considerably larger, less efficient dwellings. Now with the internet there are many resources available to make a tiny or micro home a real possibility.

A small home built from 3 shipping containers.

I think micro homes are elegant, adequate, and sensible in a time of expensive and depleted resources. They cost less, require less maintenance, and are easier to heat. And they are so darn cute.

A company in Vancouver BC is marketing their brand of tiny home for eco-conscious consumers.

At least one company is counting on consumers turning to tiny dwellings. The outfit is marketing a home that sits on a 10 X 10 footprint, considerably smaller than your average house size. It is attractive inside and out if you like a more modern industrial design, but is still expensive.

They are hoping to sell them for "less than $30,000" dollars, which is still a lot considering one could build a micro home from repurposed materials for considerably less.

If a micro home is "cute" - what is a giant home?

Plus there is something about building your own shelter with your own two hands.

No More Walls

“I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. 

I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. 

Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.”

- Anais Nin

I Could Live In A Tent

I could live in a tent.

I am not expecting much in the way of a place to live. I could make it quite nicely in a basic canvas cabin tent.

I imagine a small piece of land - a place where I can grow a garden, keep some chickens and a goat, and sing, dance, learn and play with uninterrupted abandon.

Somewhere with fresh air, clean water, and surrounded by nature. A place with positive, cooperative neighbours.

Given these conditions, I swear, I could live in a tent. Yes, a tent, and not for a night, or a week, or the summer, or until my 'dream home' is built.

Right now, the tent IS my dream home.

Tiny home, big garden would suit me fine

Perhaps at some point I would want to separate myself from the bears with solid walls. It might be fun to build my own tiny home.

A tiny home (or tent) and a big garden would suit me fine.

(House) Size Matters

Be small, live large.

"To the average man",  says a post concerning penis size published on a semi-reputable medical website, "whether he's straight or gay, his penis is, consciously or unconsciously, one of the most important things in the whole world." ONE of the most important, but is it THE most important?

For a host of illogical reasons, size has been made to matter in several areas.

The most important "size matters" thing for many men (and women) it seems, is not wee willy winky proportions, but the size of ones house.

"Ooooo, what a big... house you have."

I come to this conclusion partly because the most viewed post on NBA since we began in 2008 is "Average House Size By County". I also did "extensive" research and crunched some numbers which I will share later in this post.

My house size post also happens to be the most commented (controversial?) with 80 + comments currently, including my responses. Comments still trickle in at the rate of a few every month, which continues to surprise and please me.

The discussion the post has generated has been interesting with various views being shared in a forum that I try to make as non-threatening as possible for all readers regardless of where they stand on the size issue. I am still talking about houses here.

One thing that comes across in all the comments is that many people have given average house size a good deal of thought. Usually, though, thoughts tend toward dreamy dreams of some day inhabiting a larger sized house.

But not always. A recent comment represents my best case scenario with a large house proponent at least being willing to stop for a moment to consider what house size really means.

"I just wanted to say that your post here has inspired me to consider smaller houses. My husband and I currently live in an 1100 sq ft apartment and are looking to buy a house sometime in the next year. 

I had myself convinced that we had to buy a house bigger than our apartment because that just made sense in my mind. I thought 2000 was an acceptable minimum and even then, only if we planned to upsize to around 3000 in 5 to 10 years.  

It's still too early to say what we'll eventually buy, but this post has certainly changed my way of thinking." - Anon

We are slowly coming to the realization that, like penises, bigger houses are not necessarily better.

It should be known by now that it isn't size that is paramount, but rather it is what you do with what you've got that is most important.

Small ones can be surprisingly satisfying if used skillfully. Houses, I mean.


The Numbers 

If you think that people are obsessed with size, you are right. In most cases we tend to believe that bigger is better.

But what is the biggest size obsession of all?

When it comes to web searches, there is no contest - house size has WAY more hits than penis size. In my wacky world of research, 'more hits' equals 'more important'.

• average penis size 5,870,000 hits
• average house size 307,000,000 hits

• average penis size by country 483,000 hits 
• average house size by country 257,000,000 hits

Mobile Minimal Mansion Monday

A small, cozy living space that can really go places

Summer is officially over, the rainy season has begun, and cooler temperatures are indicating it will soon be time to start heating our home.

Perhaps because of the instinctive urge to move south this time of year, this mobile minimal mansion caught my eye. I love the warmth of the wood interior, not to mention that of the welcoming wood stove.

Who said small space living had to be cramped and uninspiring? Or attached to one place?

I can see myself driving this right on to the perfect small patch of land, and starting a big garden. A summer sanctuary.

Then I would put it on biodiesel, and burn used french fry oil to migrate to warmer temperatures for a few months in the winter.

Ultra-Tiny Homes For $200... And Under

Tiny, tiny home - $200, Sunshine - Free

Carpenter Derek Diedricksen's tremendously tiny homes may not be practical for most people when it comes to daily living, but they do an excellent job of illustrating what may be done with discarded materials, a bit of imagination, and some elbow grease.

Diedricksens's projects all take advantage of discarded construction materials, and were built for next to no cost. The wooden structures are creative and pleasing to the eye. Their diminutive stature could lead one to think they are art installations rather than places to dwell.

24 sq.ft. of stylin' shelter - mortgage not required

The largest of the dwellings is 24 square feet and the smallest a claustrophobic, Japanese-style 4 sq. ft., which is more of a 'sleeper' than a home.

What I like about Diedricksens's buildings is how he uses reclaimed scrap materials in their construction. Where others see waste, he sees possibilities. I like the size, too - they are small enough that they could fit into a regular home's garage, with room to spare. They are spartan and cozy.

Derek, and other small home proponents, see affordable shelter for all - tiny dwellings for a tiny planet.

In this case perhaps not a home, but there are lots of possibilities for a writer's or artist's cabin, or hard-sided portable camping shelter.

See more uber-tiny shelters here.

Average House Size By Country

North Americans get to enjoy being at, or near, the top of all the wrong lists. Whether it's energy consumption per capita, amount of waste produced, or average house size, you will find us up there. 

It is nice of Australians, then, to oust us North Americans out of the top spot in average house size. 

After decades of increases, in 2008 the average house size in the US began to drop. Have people had enough of the monster homes, McMansions, starter castles, and hummer houses?

In the US, many municipalities are moving to restrict the mushrooming size of new homes, trying to prevent the blight and insanity of 15,000 to 55,000 square foot monstrosities.


Builders may also be cluing in. In 2009, 9 out of 10 builders surveyed reported that they were building, or planning to build, smaller, lower cost homes than they had been.

These trends were not seen in Australia where the average new home is a record-breaking 243 sq m (2622 sq ft).

Average House Size By Country

1. Australia - 214.6 sq m (2310 sq ft), 2.56 people per household

2. USA - 201.5 (2170), 2.6 pph

3. New Zealand - 196.2 (2112), 2.6 pph

4. Canada - 181 (1950), 2.5 pph

5. Japan - 132 (1420), the pph in Tokyo dropped below 2 for the first time this year (1.99)

6. UK - 76 (818 sq ft), 2.1 pph

The largest household are found in Iraq with 7.7 people. India has 5.4 people per household, and the world average was 3.8 in 2002.

Larger households are more efficient because many people are sharing space and resources, maximizing on both. This is why students, and other people looking to maximize resources, often choose to share living space. It saves money, and resources.

But the trend has been toward larger houses and smaller households. Why do we need all this room? What is it for, and how do some people manage to live with less?

The UK is notable for having the smallest houses on our list, and in all of Europe. Six UK homes could be built on one Australian lot.

Linda and I currently live in 586 sq ft., how about you? Does your living space contribute to decreasing your country's overall average house size?



Edit: When we moved from our condo in British Columbia to a rental home in Nova Scotia in 2014, we experienced an up-sizing in our accommodation.

We no longer qualify for tiny home status (about 500 sq. ft.), but might just fit into the small home category (about 1000 sq. ft.) since our square footage is less than the average Canadian residence.

Our new home is about 1,200 sq. ft.

Our rental needed to be one level, wheelchair accessible, and with a roll-in shower. That automatically eliminated about 99% or more of potential rental units, so we couldn't be too picky when we found one that met our needs.

Many commenters on this post (recommended reading) mentioned the benefits of having more space. For us, the extra space is appreciated and has helped us do the things we need to do more comfortably.

After living in less than 600 sq. ft. for nine years, a more open home feels far less restricted. Having said that, I could live without the extra time it takes to clean it, and the extra money required to keep it warm in the winter.

For now we are enjoying our space, but when we move, we will look for a home somewhere between 500 and 900 square feet.

Floating Tiny Home Monday

A floating mini, mini mansion in a local marina, Photo: Stasi Manser

The small house is the residential equivalent of traveling with a single backpack rather than a tottering airport trolley full of gear. Both cut life to the basics, and liberate us from unnecessary clutter, mental and otherwise.

This is even more pronounced when your tiny home is on a boat. A small boat.

These homes on the water, photographed by a friend in a local marina, were built by true masters of mini. My hat is off to these innovative individuals that lead by example and show us that there is always more we can jettison as we sail simply through the sea of life.

No room for clutter aboard this floating home, Photo: Stasi Manser

"Most people would succeed in small things if they were not troubled with great ambitions. "  - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Density, Efficiency and Tiny Homes

512 sq. ft. lofted cabin costs $10,000

I currently live quite comfortably in a 586 square foot condominium. Because of the multi-unit nature of the building and resulting density, land and energy is used efficiently.

The efficiency of density is what makes New Yorkers among the lowest-impact citizens of North America. With a burgeoning global population, density is the way to go.

Having given a nod to lower-impact, high density living arrangements, I must admit that I do dream of having a tiny home somewhere with space for a nice vegetable garden.

Tiny homes take fewer resources to build and maintain, and are more energy-efficient. Compared to conventional homes that can cost you a lifetime of working, a tiny home will only cost a few thousand dollars. In addition to these advantages, tiny homes can also be used to increase density/land-use efficiency.

Some tiny home designs are so compact that they don't need a separate lot - many are finding their way into the big backyards of regular-sized houses. This is a way to house people at low cost, while increasing density in older neighbourhoods.

Thoreau might think this too large for his needs

I recently discovered some new tiny homes, as shown in the photos. The company, in the USA, produces models starting at 12x30 (360 sq. ft.) for $7500.00. The size seems downright Lilliputian until you consider that Henry David Thoreau's cabin on Walden Pond was only 150 sq. ft., and he found that adequate for several years of beautiful, low-impact living.

The 16x32, 512 sq. ft. lofted cabin shown costs about $10,000, and is not finished inside. With a bit of sweat equity the tiny home owner could finish the inside, including extra insulation and energy-efficient systems, for a low-impact, low-cost dwelling.

And wouldn't a $7,000 - $10,000.00 small loan be nice to have, compared to a massive mortgage that takes 40 years to pay off?

Tiny Home Monday

280 sq.ft. tiny home on Bowen Island, BC, Canada

Tiny homes are making a comeback, and not only because of the Great Recession. Tiny homes provide a simple, energy efficient, sustainable dwelling at an affordable cost.

Tiny homes challenge our notions of need as well as the minimum-size bylaws of most neighbourhoods.

There are many creative ways to live a tiny home lifestyle. However, we will have to change bylaws and planning departments, as well as the 'bigger is better' mentality before tiny homes become a realistic alternative.

We need a housing industry that is based on respect for nature, and can provide sustainable, affordable, mini-homes for the masses.

How many people, if they were offered a mini home alternative, would choose it over a conventional home complete with large footprint and a massive mortgage? Would you?

See more creative tiny homes here.