Laura is an Artist who lives in Guelph Ontario.
She is interested in societal equality, beauty, architecture, philosophy, feminism, people watching, dogs, animal rescue, ecology, as well as the generational ties between people.
Laura has always been interested in peace and because she loves animals she is vegan.
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While sitting in my favourite cafe in Kingston (Mug and Truffle), when this brilliant old song came on the stereo. This time, I was working on a blog post and I heard the lyrics again, in a different way, for the first time.
“two hours of pushing broom
Buys a eight by twelve four bit room
I’m a man of means by no means
King of the road”
THO is similar in size at ~8.5×11.5. Of course, I don’t rent it, but own it… and my process is not one of necessity but choice… too unlike many Tiny Housers, I did not build mine to go on the road but I attached it to a foundation. Even though there are clear differences, these lyrics made me think.
Last night, I had a wonderful chat with my almost cousin Jenny who is in the military. She shared a story about winter camping with a deflating mattress. It was no ride in the park! She woke up with her bottom side frozen into the ground. She spoke about lighting a small naphtha stove, with thick mittened fingers, while she was on watch. She explained to me how an act as seemingly trivial as this become the matter of significant importance and how this outweighed whatever was going on in the world around her. This along with other experiences she has lived make her full well understand that we humans can deal with loss of convenience quite easily. We simply get on with the smallest details of survival, we adapt. I am not supposing that my life at THO mirrors the hardship that soldiers face. As a matter of fact, a while back a friend said that THO was practically palatial when compared to his hunting camp. I have to say, as a person who has travelled and seen some pretty seedy hotels, I also realize that it is this too when compared to a two-bit room.
Still, THO does not have a lot in the way of amenities. This required me to make many adaptations in the way that I live my life. As this house of mine comes closer to completion, I hope that I have what it takes to make the steps to permanently adapt to this “less is more” life.
The great Townes Van Zandt wrote an ode to Janis Joplin and in this he said:
“If I thought about it long enough
I just might make some kind of move
watchful eyes are too hard on the soul”
To tell you the truth, I can’t explain how all this music and these thoughts are connected except inside me, somewhere deep and buried in my own personal set of meanings. They are part of the process of downsizing and giving up on the extras that at one time I felt were needed in order for me to be happy. Now, I think happiness is not a big pile of stuff, but rather it is something internal, gained by having experiences which make my life full.
There is one thing about living in a Tiny House that I never once considered. Absurd as it is, it is something that drives me bonkers! The source of this nuisance is a common house fly. It is not as trivial as it might sound because in a small space they sound significantly louder than in a large one and there are plentiful places to hide at THO. The fly here has evaded me for two days and is as loud as a B6 bomber… Okay, I am exaggerating a lot, I admit it, but the silly thing is getting to me with all its flitting and flying and buzzing about! Perhaps another reason that it is so loud is that there are no other sounds at THO, such as a television, radio or even white noise from a fridge. When the windows are closed to the weather as they are today (rain Woot!) this fly and my breathing are the only sounds.
Further annoying is that it let me photograph it several times but then hid again when I set down the camera and got the fly swatter. I am not sure how flies know that you intend to squish them to death with a fly swatter, but they seem to always hide when ever I pull one out. Has anyone ever noticed this? Perhaps they have some sort of ESP?
This photo also tells me that it is certainly time to dust THO. I really hate dusting, so I am thrilled that THO is so Tiny! I am also happy to announce the fly’s passing. I finally found success!
Yesterday when I opened my eyes I did not know what the day would bring me. It turns out that this say was to be epic. Not exactly the ten year travel of Odysseus, but even so, an interesting day.
I wrote a bit in the morning, washed up and had some coffee and then left THO. My first stop was at Liisa’s. She is doing the preparation for a family reunion and as such has a lot to do. I thought I would pop by and see if she wanted my help. I could have guessed that she would not since she has very specific ways of doing things, but still she did have plans for me, instead she brought me to Gilmore’s Point for a couple of hours. It was my first visit there, and it is a nice spot. When I left there I headed back to THO for my night bike gear just in case anything went wrong, and then hit the road for Murphy’s Point Park near Perth Ontario, because I wanted to hear Bear the Tinker tell stories. I decided on taking the back roads up through California because the winding roads are wonderful to travel on when you drive a bike. Before too long, I was on Highway 15, I stopped to gas up in Elgin $3.25 in gas filled me right to the top and I am back on the highway. Before long, I was just beginning to wonder if I missed something and I had; the crucial turn at Crosby to get to the park was several km behind me. Still steadfast in my determination, I was going along at a nice clip on a stretch of road just about where # 5 meets #15 to turn to Athens when suddenly without any warning my bike quit. It was 3:22 in the afternoon.
I would think that a small, middle aged woman on a Vino, dressed in linen trousers and a yellow flowered blouse should not seem like all that scary but even so, not a single person stopped to see if I was OK. After the bike did not restart for about 45 minutes (I thought it had just overheated) I called 411 with my stupid phone company (Telus) to get the number for the Yamaha dealer who is in Portland in order to get picked up, but despite the fact that I knew that they are in Portland or within a short distance, that they sell motorbikes, boats, and all sorts of recreational vehicles they could not find them in their system. I was on the phone with them for about 15 minutes and they were not helpful (are any of them?)
Finally I called my Yamaha people and asked them for the number. By this time, I am burned to a crisp and it is 4:45 but I get through and they send a truck to pick the bike and I up.
They fix the bike, it turns out that the cable let go from the spark plug. I have studied the map in the interim and know that I have to double back a bit now, so I go on to Murphy’s Point. It was about 5:45 by the time I left the bike shop.
I finally hit #14 and take the road which is fun at first because it is winding and smooth but eventually turns into 6 km of new gravel on a dirt road. Anyone who drives a street bike will appreciate how not fun this kind of terrain is. None the less, at 6:45 I arrive to see Bear the Tinker and listen to his stories. It was totally worth the trip! Bear played a full set of Uileann pipes and told us about the little people, and the big people. He weaved a brilliant tale that blended mythology, folklore, science, religion, philosophy, and a twinkling eye into his work. By the end, I am convinced that the entire audience believed that Big foot was in the woods watching us and that better not catch a little person in the corner of their eye. The man and the story teller is so enchanting; his traditional ways, along with his vivid memory makes for a special time which I wanted to extend into the night, but I did not want to be on the gravel road after dark and thus at 8:30 I left and faced the road again.
About 1/2 of the way on the paved road before the turn to Murphy’s point, at 9:30, there is a small bridge that crosses the Rideau. It was so pretty there that I stopped and was greeted by a Kayaker who was just on the last leg of a 15 day trip up the canal. George had been up to Ottawa and had wonderful stories to tell about his encounters with nature through his beautiful adventure, including a threatening wind and a nasty seagull. He had a beautiful imagination and presence. Along with this he has more than just a passing interest in light. He had wonderful and unique lights which he makes himself from old garden lights and these he brought with him to light the way and they twinkled around us. He gifted one to me which is a bubbling ball that I now have charging! I am looking forward to seeing it and believe it will remind me of the moon over the canal every time I see it. Further to his interest in light, hee is a photographer and had taken many photos and though he did not share them with me, he did share his web address (which sadly I forgot, so I am hoping he will remember THO and remind me of the link).
The moon as I mentioned above, was the nearly full sturgeon moon and just waining slightly. It shone heavenly orange light over the water and made the sky into a soft grey light. The big dipper clear as a bell, held it’s contents to the North West, between 2 giant maples. It was the sort of place and climate that deserves time and attention, I relaxed into the night and before too long, I was leaving far too late.
I did not get back on the road until it was nearing midnight and the road was clear because of the bright moon, but when I got on the highway I realized that there was not one single location to stop and get gas, and I knew that I could not make it home. Still, there was nothing I could do but push forward. I kept the bike steady at 75kmph and drove, sticking to the main roads. Fortunately, the moon made the walk easy and I could see a long way. I did not feel scared or nervous when the bike finally puttered to a stop. I made it to within a couple of km of my cousin’s place at 12:32 so I pushed the bike to his house and walked on to Liisa’s house because I have a key and it is closer than THO. I arrived to her place at 1:27 am. Safe, sound and filled with the days adventure I fell asleep quickly and slept sound.
This morning, I am blistering and bitten and I stand, hoping that today is just as interesting!
Yesterday after the first rain I tootled out of THO and went down the back road to see what the forest looks like from the other concession road.
I think it looks surprisingly good!
This is the back 50 of the original farm, but this was subdivided a long time ago. The ten acre parcel that belongs to us, is all forest and starts here where the corn stops. This entire tree line is ours and it goes back about a kilometre from the edge of there. It is a good bit of land for one TIny House!
I can’t emphasize enough, that it is nice to have had the rain! I feel so much relief for the sake of the trees and thus my worry subsides for the time being.
The forest was green and soft this morning when I woke. A hazy soft light covered the woods as far as I could see and the leaves point upward and danced in the light breeze.
We had two good rains yesterday afternoon. Both were not called for as far as I understand, but yet they came. I had left my dishpan out in the cloth porch kitchen and there was a full two to three inches of depth in it! Enough rain water to wash the coffee cups that were in there! Enough rain to rebound much of the drought damage in the forest, where it is too late for many gardens and most fields.
In the year that I have been there, I have been talking about the way that the light is here. Finally, yesterday afternoon when the rains ended and I took a photo which I believe captures the light. I imagine that the forest let go of its secrets because it was too busy celebrating!
Tiny House Ontario 