Skip to main content

Living Small. Living Simply.

I woke up this morning, about 6:35 a.m.  I walk down the hallway to the front room of my house.  There, I see a colorful assortment of school detritus, papers, backpacks, blankets, and clothing strewn about the floor.  Oh, and a totally functioning microwave in the middle of the floor that my parents want, but have not found the time to come get yet (even though my mom is now retired and has more hours in the day than she knows what to do with).

Continuing on to the kitchen, I am greeted by random Cheerios on the floor, not to mention other wrappers, rubber bands, and litter that has not been swept up recently.  Our kitchen is actually one long room that contains the dining room and TV room and that means I can see the mess that is normally called the dining table.  Chili splotches that did not get wiped up from the night before, more school papers and such scattered about, etc.  The entrance to the downstairs is actually blocked by a random plastic bag and my daughter's Adidas gym bag.

Which, right there, I should have taken as a sign to NOT go downstairs.  The downstairs is mostly the domain of my husband's office, my laundry room, and the two older kids' bedrooms. 

And it is trashed.  We're talking craaaaap everywhere.  Dirty clothes and craft stuff.

I think you can probably guess what happened next.  Mom freaks out (film at eleven).

I've only been home two weeks.  Two weeks, two meltdowns.  I feel trapped by this house and everything in it.  But, the question of course, where to begin?  I *want* to live smaller, there's no doubt about it, but how?

Enter the Dragon. 

Martial artist Bruce Lee says it best: "It's not the daily increase, but the daily decrease.  Hack away at the unessential."

Indeed.  It's the unessential that is driving me crazy.  But, what is unessential to me is totally essential to my husband.  Or my children. 

We are preparing for a garage sale later this month, and our garage is becoming full of things that are unessential to us right now.  Whatever doesn't get sold will probably be donated.  And then, we'll begin the culling process again, I reckon.  Until someday, when we have our things pared down to the essentials and we have one (or zero) child left in the house...then we can move into one of these:


This is the 'Linden' model of house, available at Tumbleweed Tiny House Company.  Two bedrooms, 177 square feet of usable space, totally mobile.

That is the end game right there, readers.  Small home, small living.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

For You!

I'm torn.  It's 8:40 p.m. here.  I know that I have roughly one hour of wakefulness left before I collapse onto my pillow for the night. My new term of classes start tomorrow.  My backpack is ready to go.  So is my leftover-lunch.  So is my breakfast smoothie.  All important emails has been sent.  I'm caught up on Facebook news. Hm.  How does one spend their last hour of energy before beginning the roller coaster ride of a new term? By watching Downton Abbey, Season 1 again...natch.  Now that there's no more DA until next January, I must watch the old episodes again for that fix.  And that, up until about twn minutes ago, was exactly what I'd planned on doing. Until I popped in here for moment to check on things.  And by things, I mean my "Stats".  And actually, by that, I mean my "Audience".  And I was shocked to see that in the last 24 hours, there have been more looks here at Be Food from France than from the US...

Time to Refocus

Okay.  I know I've got a Cratchit Christmas Dinner to recap and illustrate for you here, and I have every intention of doing so. But, first...something that's on my mind: food. You're shocked, yes? I happen to be on a short hiatus from school and work, and I admit, I have the tiniest desire to be working or studying right now.  I mean, someone to crack the whip at my back.  It is all so easy to fall into a lifestyle of sloth during this holiday season. I spent last weekend at my in-laws house.  They live in the country + painful below-zero temps = no exercise.  There's a fair amount of sitting on the couch, watching hunting shows or basketball games.  I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, preparing the evening meals (and by golly, I was glad to do it).  Also, my husband's mom firmly believes in three hearty, plentiful meals a day...hard to get my crowd excited about stuffed pork loin when they've just gorged on ham balls and cheesy potatoes. ...

From Government Regulations to Chicken

So, I really wanted tonight's post to be whippy and biting and highly intelligent...and I've even got the perfect topic - government wine regulations: Europe vs. the US (subtitle: European Governments Seem to Trust Their Citizens A Whole Lot More The US, Otherwise Why Don't French, et al., Wine Labels Have the Surgeon General's "Pregnant Women Should Not Drink This/This Beverage Impairs Your Brain" Warning). But, I realized that to begin a post like that, I should probably know the answer to the question, yes?  Why do American wine labels include the warning, when, I don't know, isn't just common sense?  A quick search of this very query lands me at Wikipedia, which is good enough for a rude overview, but nothing that indicates why it's a law in the first place. Hence, more reading is required.  I hope to get to it soon.  It's almost August, two-thirds of this year is nearly gone, and sometimes I feel as I am moving very, very quickly along...