A Roof Over My Head

It’s been quiet on the Trek to Tiny, but only because this menopausal woman has been up the ladder, down the ladder, up the ladder, down the ladder … you get the idea. There is something rooted deep inside myself that loves the long view of wild places, being out there in snapshots that ground you to terra firma, but this project has taught me lessons about a roof over my head.

The higher off the ground this project goes, the more prone to head scratching, frustrating, tear producing days of work I seem to have. Let me be clear, I DO NOT LIKE HEIGHTS. No rock climbing, bungee jumping, skydiving bucket list items for me, I like my feet on the ground after getting to that steep mountaintop. So as I climbed higher hauling tools and materials up ladders (I eventually got to the point that a really tall sturdy ladder and rented scaffolding was money well spent), I had to dig deep. Being the stubborn woman I am, I shed a tear and just keep going. My partner’s father was a painter and so he has been scampering around on ladders his whole life…it makes my heart drop to watch.

My youngest son taking advantage of the scaffolding.

I am deeply grateful for my two sons, and trusty sidekick who have sacrificed many beautiful summer days, afternoons after work, and weekends to be my extra hands, and extra brains … trust me, having extra brains when yours is shutting down in the math realm is super helpful. A local math teacher and her engineer husband brought some much needed precision to the project…

received_515099792159488 — Ian and Dinah casually doodle the math on junk mail.

20170923_100124_Film1 — Talking rafters on a Saturday morning.

There was no way to escape the bands of rain that were headed my way and no way to get the roof done before the weather hit. I had already learned that hard rain on my insulated floor system stresses me so Amazon came to the rescue and delivered a GIANT tarp quickly. Getting that tarp on the roof in the wind was quite the sight. It became an enormous tsunami wave and it felt like a big deal when we finally got it up. It’s done the job keeping the house dry.

Putting up temporary sheathing to hold the tarp.

20170930_140618_Film1 — We had some fun under the giant blue bubble.

I’ve had plenty of solo work days as well, and the lessons on those days will humble you. I was sheathing walls on a windy day (plywood makes for dangerous kites), moved a ladder and had a forgotten drill drop onto my head (thankfully pointy end up, but I still said a bad word), realizing at the top of the ladder I have no pencil (up the ladder, down the ladder, up the ladder), cutting boards too short because I had measured twice and that number in my head matched the number on the tape…oops. Not to mention the plethora of nasty splinters that instantly embed themselves my child sized hands.

The task I absolutely hate the most is loading and securing lumber by myself, it truly terrifies me as I drive away.

20170923_092313_Film1 — This makes me sweat every time!

My future home is taking shape and I just climb over the hurdles and keep working towards my dream. A professional builder could of produced this shell much quicker and at a comparable cost, but I have a deeper connection to this 275 sq.ft. of space because I dreamed it and put it there.

The fourth season is pressing in, there is a snow line on the mountains which will just continue to drop until it reaches my tiny house. The goal is to get completely dried in. Everyday brings me closer, but there is still considerable work to be done. I look forward to a mental and physical break. Time to heal my body in the yoga studio, sleep without weather worries, and not race off to the job site after a full day of teaching cooking classes (another new adventure and learning curve!)

I found myself thinking about how fun it would be to do a school bus or van conversion when this is all done. I guess that tells me I’ll always be a girl who loves a big dream with more dirty hands and a baseball hat in my future.

In the middle of all the chaos happening in the world Tom Petty dies.

Yeah runnin’ down a dream
That never would come to me
Workin’ on a mystery, goin’ wherever it leads
Runnin’ down a dream

FB_IMG_1507428944737 (1) — Running Down The Dream…

Dream Big, Tread Lightly, Be Kind…

Hillary D.

Building The Wall

We’ve heard a lot about building a wall in our country this year, a giant wall that was to be paid for by the very ones it is intended to keep out. I spent the majority of my summer building four walls, paid for by me and is only intended to keep me in and the weather out. My walls have tested my emotions just as Trump’s wall has pushed this country’s emotional buttons.

All those tiny house vlogs on YouTube I love so much, well I’m thinking there has been A LOT of editing going on as no one films the reality of those days when you want to throw in the hammer and give up. The construction of the floor wasn’t nearly as trying as building walls in pieces that will have to be lifted up and placed on the trailer. A giant jigsaw puzzle built out of 2×4’s.

The base plates were non-negotiable, 5/8″ bolts tie them to the trailer flange and there is zero wiggle room, they either fit or they don’t. By sill plate #4 I was able to drill 5 out of 6 holes on the first try, this felt like an amazing accomplishment…even if those holes come back to haunt me. Wall #1 was easy, not the tallest or the longest and has no windows, but it attaches to a longer wall that spans the wheel well and ties together. The layout was simple but then came the scariest tool yet, the framing gun. Something about 3 1/4″ nails shot at a high velocity made me very cautious, very nervous and slow. When I would share my fear of the framing gun with people they all seemed to have stories about the guy who nailed his hand to the wall or ended up with a nail in some other soft body part. These anecdotes did not ease my fears.

The walls began to stack up. Some we could build on the trailer, others we built in the carport, and finished walls were moved to pallets out in the yard. The tiny house literally was taking over, especially when the 12 windows and front door were delivered. The neighbors on either side have been troopers, this project has actually brought everyone out of their house and yards to wander over and check the progress and get to know each other a little better. We’ve had everything from homebaked goods, hard cider, tools and knowledge shared with us. Neighbor Bob even relocated the trailer and leveled it when we were ready to raise the walls.

Trailer relocated and leveled with a wall ready to raise.

I’ve had to keep goals in front of me all summer, and constant reminders that I learn so much through failure. Seasoned builders will chuckle at the amount of time it took us to build four walls, but I’ve taken apart as many boards as I’ve put together and chalked it up to experience earned the hard way. In the end, through all the trials and tribulations I learned valuable lessons, the walls are done and my family is still talking to each other! I was proud of the teamwork exhibited to make this happen and Bill gets a huge kudos for all the time, tools, land, and space he has contributed to this effort, I couldn’t of done it without him.

Bill braving the only “not quite tall enough” ladder we had.

So on this frosty Saturday in September, good friends showed up and we have the walls raised. They all signed their names and well wishes on various studs, and I will always know their presence is there and be grateful for the help. There is still a considerable amount of work to be done and weather is moving in. With rain/snow in the forecast, the next push is to get the roof on and the structure dried in. Knowing this won’t happen before the first raindrops fall we protected the floor with a solid sheet of plastic that can be cut out when we’re enclosed.

Long time friend Jennifer signed my kitchen window.

Mason and Matt securing a wall.

Ready, Set, Go.

Moving walls from the yard to the trailer.

I’ll leave you with a couple photos from our one and only camping/backpacking trip of the summer, but it was a great reminder of the life I love and by living in a simple and small abode I will have greater opportunities for the wide and wonderful world.

Many Glacier

The Highline Trail

The Granite Park Chalet

Keep on Trekking,

Hillary D.

Splinters, Bees and Bruises

I just completed my first week of physical work on the tiny house. I think the house needs a name, and just like a trail name arises for long distance hikers I’m sure the house’s personality will make itself known. This week has taught me so much already. Things about myself, tools, materials, and the small little minutiae that can make or break you.

The plans I bought from ShelterWise included material lists and even though I have completely redesigned the interior, the trailer and shape of the exterior are the same so I didn’t think I needed to recreate the wheel. Bill’s shop had become a catchall for stuff (like most garages or shops are) so I spent a couple of days pulling everything out, organizing the tooling and creating a usable space. I am grateful for the access to his tools and he has LOTS of them!

Bill’s father was a craftsman and had some really cool tools.

After much research and many YouTube videos, I felt pretty confident of the steps I needed to complete to get the sub-floor on the 24′ trailer. My solo Home Depot shopping trip came next. On my list; 2×6’s, 2×4’s, blocking, joist hangers, 3/4″ TG plywood, adhesive, 5/8″ bolts, washers, lock washers, #9 1/2″ screws, 2″ deck screws, rigid foam insulation and batt insulation. I added gloves, protective eye-wear, sunscreen and a first aid kit.

Everything was going pretty well until I got to the “Fasteners” aisle … holy cow. 3 out 5 people all had their phones out talking to someone or Googling the fastener they were looking for so I was in good company with feeling slightly overwhelmed. Sure enough the bolts I bought were too long, then they were too short, so by the 3rd trip in I was able to make a bee line to what I needed. I’ll be a Home Depot aficionado by the time this is all over. It isn’t every girls dream shopping trip, but by the time I had pulled everything and got it loaded into the truck I felt more accomplished than buying a new pair of jeans has ever left me feeling.

The July heat is on and we’re creeping into those 90ish degree temps that make you really grateful for a good fan and the deep waters of Lake Pend Oreille. I quickly learned that the galvanized pan on the bottom of the trailer once the sun hits is blinding and hot, making me sympathize with anything I put under the broiler. I used to sew quite a bit, quilts, clothing, pillows, bags, cushions, curtains … anything that could be constructed with fabric I was willing to tackle. I also kept the seam ripper close at hand because I inevitably would have to rip apart what was constructed to do it right. Apparently this build will be no different. YouTube can only take you so far, the rest of the learning curve happens the hard way and re-doing parts of the floor system taught me some valuable lessons:

It’s better to have “too much” rather than “not enough”, running to Home Depot when things are really rolling because you ran out screws is maddening.
Solo work days are a blessing and a curse when that second pair of hands would be handy, or another brain would be appreciated to help think through a process. But you just rise up and figure it out.
The right bra and hair ties will greatly mitigate frustration levels.
Ukulele breaks are energizing.
Splinters, bee stings and bruises will be part of the new normal

20170728_123406 — This was from leaning over the trailer flange. Looks awful, healed quick!

Hanging joists and getting roasted.

2″ of Rigid Foam with a 3/4″ air gap below.

3 1/2 ” of Batt Insulation.

I have a floor!

I’ve been wearing a necklace with a little turtle charm to remind me that slow and steady wins the race as the Trek to Tiny is a long haul. Now off to Sandpoint Hot Yoga to keep my back in good shape!

Be Kind and Be Well,

Hillary D.

Unchurched Church

I worked at a church for 18 years … 18 years of Bible studies, services, ministry and leadership. It has now been over a year since I’ve attended a church service at the building I called home. Two decades ago when I went through a Celebrate Recovery Step Study, there was a woman who was in recovery from church. I thought that was an off-beat reason to enter into a recovery program, but it makes perfect sense to me now.

“Unchurched” was the Christian buzz word in the hallways of the church I worked at. We were trying to pull the “unchurched” into church, debated how to reach the “unchurched” , celebrated when an “unchurched” family showed up in church and prayed for those lost “unchurched” men, women and children. I am now one of the “unchurched” and for now am perfectly OK with that status.

I stepped into the church after my mother’s death, which was profound on many levels. In those final moments when her heart was still beating and the lungs still drawing for breath it was physically obvious that her spirit, the entire essence of her being had already left her cancer battered body and that provoked questions … big questions. Upon returning home I began seeking answers and the church seemed like the best place to get answers.

I don’t know that I got the answers I was looking for, what I did get was a head full of more questions. So I asked, and I read, and I listened, and I practiced Christianity. In the early years of my new and growing faith, my behavior resembled the behavior that used to scare me away from churches and the Bible. I felt the need to slather everyone around me with my new enthusiasm for Jesus with expectations that they too would see the light and jump on board with me. How could my friends, family and strangers not see the truth?! That brand of evangelism felt like an ill-fitting pair of shoes that you continue to wear even though they hurt your feet.

Eventually I took off those tight shoes and returned to the familiar and comfortable bare feet that allow me to feel everything I step on or into. Jesus washed the bare feet of others and allowed others to wash and perfume his own bare feet, taking those sandals off was a radical act of humility and love. The longer I spent inside the walls of the church, the more I felt like an impostor loudly proclaiming the truth while wearing shoes that were giving me blisters, when what I really longed for was the quiet barefoot Jesus.

Working in ministry for money is not for the faint of heart, it has the potential to really, really mess with your spiritual life. The inner office wing was filled with regular people like me, some who tried to mask the pain of walking in shoes that no longer fit. There were times it did not feel like a safe place to be unsure, to question or to disagree with what was being taught as concrete scriptural truth. We all had real life problems going on and my impending separation and divorce after 20+ years of marriage was a big one for me.

My experience of going through a divorce as a very visible leader in a church was an eye opener. I generally experienced one of two things, complete avoidance of the topic OR the need to quote every scripture related to marriage that could be found, meant to encourage me to stay in a place that was no longer working. Neither was very helpful. I knew the biblical stance on marriage, I’d been wrestling with it for years. I actually had the pastor tell me my divorce was “awkward.” Divorce isn’t awkward, it’s really quite tragic. I did not take divorce lightly, and I now have great compassion for other families that are drowning in those deep waters.

I appreciate the lessons the mountaintops and valleys of leadership taught me. And there are steadfast and inspiring individuals whose unwavering faith continue to be a lighthouse. It is my time in the wilderness, barefoot in the sun. What an adventure it is to discover God, to practice love, kindness and tolerance outside the confines of organized religion. I take deep breaths, choose my words carefully and think about God a lot. I still believe in a higher power, I need something outside my finite body to cry out to and be grateful for in this lifetime.

I sometimes walk my dogs past the church on Sunday mornings as the congregation files through the newly landscaped entryway and I smile and say hello to familiar faces. Some have asked if I am in “fellowship” anywhere and while I am in fellowship all the time I know the real question is, “Are you going to church?” The answer is “No” and often the response is that they will pray for me, and I wonder what exactly their prayers will be. I don’t tell them that I can always use more grace, forgiveness, and gratitude.

To those that are happily embodied in the life of a church, I applaud you and will be slightly envious of the joy that it brings to your life. Maybe there will be a day that organized religion brings that same solace to my life but today I am headed out into the world, barefoot on rocky ground.

Keep Looking Upward,

Hillary D.

Trailers and 1st Tattoos

I now own two trailers. You might remember my little travel trailer that was ripped down and rebuilt with a new back wall, new floors, box cushions, curtains and paint. The early project looked daunting.

Putting that little tin can back together taught me a lot, and when the end looked near heavy rains came through and there was STILL a leak! Water is so tricky. A little more head scratching and some good advice from neighbors and she is water tight. It is going to be a great little vehicle to adventure in.

o4yo1wewfvnp9_bl1jbgxhcnebpczkhajxoezloew4ipx92ib — The demolition days

20161122_110049 — No more 1970 interior!

Over Memorial Day weekend I grabbed my trusty sidekick and we headed to Portland to pick up the tiny house foundation. Coming down from Mount Hood we realized that the brakes on the truck might not be great, (the results of a fire tower trip last summer.)

MT Hood — Soaking up sun at Timberline Lodge

A little seed of doubt grew into nerves when we rolled up to Iron Eagle Trailers and they brought out my 8’6″x 24′ double axle trailer. I never would of thought a couple hundred square feet would feel SO BIG! They threw the correct hitch on and gave us the low-down on towing an empty trailer. My truck didn’t have the brake hookup for the trailer brakes so we were going to rely on the Ford’s questionable stopping power for over 800 miles.

Bill took the wheel to navigate us out of Portland and onto the straightest highway we can find. With the vehicle we were well over 30′ long and in one block we learned that empty trailers bounce, lane changes require lots of space and tight corners make you sweat. We left Portland late enough in the day that the holiday traffic had subsided and the highways were blessedly empty. Bill drove for 8 hours with one perfect stop to gas up, meaning no need to back up or turn around, and I did my best to stay awake. We had a new awareness of the roadways, “Look at the size of the load that guy is hauling!” and made it back to Sandpoint safe and sound and it turns out the truck brakes are just fine.

Backing the trailer into the build spot was tricky and took a couple of “do-overs” but was ultimately successful and it is sitting there waiting for building supplies. The school I work at has wrapped up another eventful year and in the next few weeks I will be tackling the installation of the sub-floor…the Trek to Tiny is real!

I turned 53 this month, and got my first tattoo. My daughter has long wanted a mother/daughter tattoo and we both have two simple words, Be Kind, now permanently attached to our forearm. My daughter effortlessly rolled with her new artwork, but I am a little startled every time I catch a glimpse of it and have been wearing long sleeves as I don’t exactly “boldly own it” quite yet but I am getting there. I think getting a tattoo changes you a wee bit, it’s one of those things no one who has tattoos tells you, or maybe it’s my personal perception. Just like I noticed every load being hauled down the road, I now am more aware of the art people have chosen to adorn themselves with.

Christian circles will tell you it’s wise to be mindful of what you pray for. The only way to learn patience is to be faced with impatient situations, to practice forgiveness you must experience injustice and gratitude is born through loss. Daily opportunities to “Be Kind” are also hard to ignore when your mantra is visibly tattooed to your arm. The message to myself and others is sound, and I’m sure with time I will be less startled when I see the reflection in the yoga studio mirrors. Bill thinks my “ink” may not be done yet and the message is really, Be Kindergarten … his humor is my sunshine.

I want to post some videos of the tiny house build as I would like my kids, friends and family to really see how this all plays out. So far I’ve made a couple of really awkward, unwatchable clips so we’ll see how that goes.

Until next time,

Be Kind.

Hillary D.

“My Favorite Kitchen”

The arrival of my 19 yr. old daughter has brought a new buzz to the household. She only has a short 8 weeks to catch up with her gal pals, family, and other locals before the next adventure begins through Thailand and on to a work visa approved year in New Zealand. The addition of these lovely young adults on top of my son’s growing bevy of high school friends makes for a lively front room and kitchen. I listen to the chatter, the stories, the volume battles between the TV programs and the Echo streaming music, and the laughter and I feel very, very happy.

My current home is modest by US standards and comfortable. Located on a busy thru street I see the neighborhood going by with traffic, people, bikers, dogs and the occasional moose from my bedroom window.

Two cooks can navigate my small U-shaped kitchen on a normal day. Last night there were two of us cooking, dogs underfoot waiting for scraps, two girls on the floor leaning against the fridge and opposing dishwasher, and two more on the love seat in the hallway with still more kids around the corner hanging on the couch. Bill and I sang and chopped vegetables, had a glass of red wine and prepared a great vegan meal for everyone in the house and whoever else might come through the front door. Preparing great food and feeding others has long been one of my passionate acts of generosity. For years my grocery bill has been the highest cost of living I have and I am grateful to be able to share my cooking with the people in my life. I love to hear, “It smells so good in here!”

One of the girls was serving up a hot plate of veggie hash browns and said, “This is my favorite kitchen. Not just because there is great food, but we get to do this”, nodding to the cozy scene of everyone sharing an informal meal. What a great compliment for a woman who has spent a significant amount of time knee-deep in grocery shopping, recipes, ingredients, and dirty dishes.

12249611_10206399496000224_555596105806530918_n — Alouette gets in on the action.

I thought about this scene as I was making design decisions with my tiny house. So many tiny homes have the kitchen tucked in at one end under a loft, great for one cook but not for the hub of activity my kitchen always seems to be. I have placed my kitchen in the center of my design under the highest ceilings. I can picture a couple of people able to cook while others sit on the couch, the stairs and at the convertible table that is still evolving in my head.

I bought my first power tools, really … MY OWN tools. Whenever I take a step in the right direction it feels big, even when it is simple. I charged them up and am now ready to sink some screws into boards!

Everything is turning green and about to burst into bloom, even with the continued bouts of rain it is my signal to move from the indoors out. It is going to be a busy, busy season first finishing the camper renovation and then picking up the house trailer in Oregon over Memorial Day weekend. Ready … Set … Go!

Keeping my eyes on the goal,

Hillary D.

Coveting in a Tiny World

I recently visited a certified tiny home builder who is 34 miles from my home, Portable Cedar Cabins in Spirit Lake, Idaho. Google Maps lead me to the corner of the town park, twice. Obviously needing directions I steered to the local hardware store which is where I always seem to have the most luck finding help. The old guy had his dog sleeping on the counter, a conversation starter for sure. He knew exactly who I was looking for and sent me a mile further down the road. Rounding the steep bend of the highway. you really can’t miss the 18 or so tiny homes in various stages of completion.

The site was busy with North Idaho hard-working men, hammering to music like it was summer in the 53 degree spring weather. From the size of the mud ruts, Portable Cabins build site had its share of winter with the rest of us. We stepped into the yard and was greeted by Bob, who was more than happy to answer a couple of questions, give us a some instructions and turn us loose to wander around the homes.

I had my 16yr old son with me who is a tiny house skeptic, he looks at me with eyebrows raised, smiles and says “Okaaay” whenever I pull him into my tiny house excitement. When we stepped into the first little abode, he raised his eyebrows and declared, “This is surprisingly nice!” So we climbed into lofts, opened pocket doors, checked out tiny bathroom sinks and talked about what life would feel like in each of these different small spaces. So much fun!

Making our way back to the tiny house main office I sat down with the owner Dave and shared my Trek to Tiny with him. I had noticed that ALL the homes had flush toilets and none of them had gray water tanks or holding tanks, everyone was tapping into water, power and sewer. So, we talked about off-grid builds, N.Idaho frozen winters which equates to frozen water, and small wood stoves. Dave is a big proponent of going with a 10′ wide build, and I had noticed the difference that extra 18″ provided. Then the question everyone wants to know, “How much?” He quoted me $28,000 for a 10×24 completed shell with roughed-in plumbing and electrical, and he would deliver it to me for FREE since I am local.

I started doubting the path I have put into motion, buying a trailer and attempting a DYI build with hiring local professionals as needed. The mind followed a rabbit trail … my design would be better if it was bigger, I will save myself a lot of work, I’d be doing interior work this summer, this looks easier.

After my tiny house high, a hot yoga class forced me to take a deep breath, move and sweat for an hour and gave me the clear head to think this over carefully. I pulled out my materials list and crunched numbers, I had estimated they were receiving somewhere between 7,000-10,000 for their labor and that turned out to be pretty spot on. I wrestled with the budget vs. time argument and thought about what 10,000 can buy. My camper/tiny house journal revealed a whole bunch of reasons why staying the original course means something to me, this whole thing is a trek after all.

20170409_063542 — Early morning Trek to Tiny work.

The pull to go bigger & spend more almost got me, a little mindfulness goes a long way. My oldest son who is a smart, hardworking, and really strong man has been excited about helping his mom this summer and building a small house shell. What a learning curve we’re going to have together!

Ready to get moving.

Hillary D.

Downsized Parenting

As I minimize on The Trek to Tiny, really strip everything back to the basics, I realize that I am also learning how to downsize my parenting. Letting go of clothes, and furniture, dishes, and knick-knacks, as well as hundreds of photographs is easy in comparison of letting go of my kids. It happens … they grow up.

There were years of wiping tears and noses and bottoms, folding endless loads of laundry, reading “Chicka Chicka Boom Boom” over and over and watching “The Land Before Time” enough that I had a solid affection for Littlefoot the Apatosaurus, and wondering if I would ever sleep again.

During the home school years we made a mess in the kitchen with art, science and cooking. I made everyone cry teaching them math, and we got through it together. We explored the mountains and the ocean and loved our log home in the country with dogs, cats and gardens. I spent what felt like forever skiing the bunny hill on Schweitzer teaching the three of them to make “french fries” and “pizza wedges” while sliding downhill. We practiced Taekwondo, learning forms, and weapons and self-defense. Sweating our way through the stress of belt tests the four of us discovered how to encourage and persevere. Taking on an exchange student for a year added another culture and more love to the mix.

The summer before our family life unraveled with a divorce we sang and danced our way through “The Music Man” unable to erase the hours of rehearsals from our psyche.

“We can be cold
As our falling thermometers in December
If you ask about our weather in July.”

“Iowa Stubborn” and all the other catchy tunes brought us closer to our community and we had opening night jitters and closing night elation. Other productions followed with same excitement and late night rehearsals.

The kids made it through high school, learning that “this too shall pass” when the stress and social challenges of being a teenager become overwhelming. The youngest will be entering in to his senior year this fall, the empty nest is looming. I’m so grateful for the adventures we’ve shared, the slums of India, beautiful back-country scenery and impossibly long bike rides.

298472_2320010553710_351885265_n — Strolling the markets of India.

564313_3570830863436_842379448_n — We rode 80 miles in the rain!

11822774_10205723651184526_8929358047069206535_n — My back-country buddy.

And so, I am learning to downsize my parental worries and tasks, and telling myself everything is OK when what feels like long stretches of no communication become the norm as my kids build their young adult lives and independently discover the world in which they live. The fact they are able to do those very things means the parenting wasn’t perfect but it was successful.

For now I enjoy it when the kids trickle in and out of the house for visits, and soak up this last remaining year with the baby of the family. Truth be told, I am excited about the next chapter for my life!

Be Well,

Hillary D.

Thawing Out

There is a hole in my shoe. It’s probably been there all winter, but just became noticeable because everything is suddenly very wet. I live in what is touted to be a pedestrian friendly town, but this winter has been a challenge. Sidewalks were kinda, sorta shoveled and mostly covered in ice so the roads became the safer option when out walking. Exercising the dog required focused attention … to traffic, what was underfoot, and more than once I was surprised by local wildlife also making their way around town.

1014010_10201913405330761_1038153656_n — At least they use the crosswalks.

The earth’s axis has finally shifted and you can feel spring heading our way. I haven’t posted anything for awhile because the trek to the tiny house has been quiet as I have just been riding out the winter and waiting for the thaw. Glad for all the snowy days that allowed me to plan, and research, and think and plan some more. The dogs have gotten me out of the house and into the snowy landscape …

The birds are going crazy with the warmer weather and my build site is rapidly returning to bare ground which has thrown me back into my Sketchup model to make some revisions before I start the framing plans. I’ve made my first major tiny house purchase! I love 4 season climates and will have two sources of heat, one being a wood stove and the Mini Grizzly stole my heart.

This little gem puts out 8,000-18,000 BTU’s and will heat up to 400 square feet. I really liked the wall mount and made some modifications to the kitchen to accommodate this little heat source. Isn’t it sweet?! I also placed an order with Iron Eagle and my foundation is ready for pick up … eeek! Owning a trailer has brought renewed energy to the project and the reality of this tiny dream is now tactile.

Cheers to noisy birdsong and spring!

Hillary D.

Building Season

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.”

Serenity Prayer

With “Snowmageddon 2017” it seems as though the building season will never arrive and I am anxious to get moving. Every drip, drip from the roof and sounds of running water in the street remind me that this too shall pass. My building site currently looks like this …

It is painfully obvious that it will be awhile before a trailer can be pulled on to the site and the shop is operational. Not to mention the challenges that the tiny house will face with big winters! I look at those pictures and think about how the snow will come off my roof, my front door and the need for a sturdy awning of some sort, and water…always thinking about water, particularly frozen water.

20170209_082745 — Scenic 7B has been awfully frosty.

I have selected a trailer! Iron Eagle Trailers in Oregon manufacture trailers specifically for tiny houses. Little things like recessed crossmembers, axles positioned significantly forward to carry the load of a tiny house, stronger, lighter and they’ll make free tweaks to accommodate your house design. The cost for this foundation of my future home comes in under $5000 and I can pick it up in Bend, Oregon which is an easy days drive.

tiny-1-400px — The Trek to Tiny begins here!

There is a Google SketchUp model of my trailer created by Tiny Nest Project that will allow me to start accurately placing my framing and I now know exactly where the wheel wells will fall in my design. Thank you Kiva and Jake for making this model available! If you’ve never used SketchUp, it is relatively easy to learn, is FREE, and fun to use. I’ve got a cabinet I want to incorporate into my kitchen and this program allows me to accurately place this piece into the design and see in 3D how it will work. When I was in design school we did most our work on a drafting table and changes were tedious, technology certainly has its wonderful moments.

I spend a considerable amount of time watching YouTube videos, another amazing resource of information. In addition to Tiny Nest I’ve watched all of Derek Howlett’s videos on the Life Inside a Box channel. This young kid documented his entire tiny house build and it really phenomenal. He and his wife are homesteading on 40 acres in Arizona and have quite the gig going on out in the desert. I also love Ana White, she and her husband build beautiful tiny houses and her creative furniture designs are downright awesome. Not only is she a bad ass builder in Alaska, she makes her designs available for free … how sweet is that!

Now I patiently wait for dry ground and slip slide my way through our frozen landscape on my Trek to Tiny.

20170210_073711_hdr — Beautiful sunrise on Lake Pend Oreille

Hope you all feel loved on this Valentines Day and everyday …

Hillary D.

The Trek to Tiny

Art and Life in a Tiny House

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A Roof Over My Head

Building The Wall

Splinters, Bees and Bruises

Unchurched Church

Trailers and 1st Tattoos

“My Favorite Kitchen”

Coveting in a Tiny World

Downsized Parenting

Thawing Out

Building Season

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Art and Life in a Tiny House

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