Everyone has seen those beautiful hipster, earthy tiny-homes on the internet. You know, the log cabins with cozy lofts, a kitchenette, functional living room and bathroom - all spaciously presented in an outdoor mountain setting; or perhaps the snow is falling like powdered sugar around the glowing cabin while a young couple sit on the couch with their Golden Retriever.
My husband and I temporarily stayed in a tiny wooden studio in Dublin (home #1 of 3), but the magic coziness wore off after a day. There was no kitchen. There was no separate loft or space for sleeping. There was a wood stove and a dog - but not our dog and it was not the season for fires in a tiny room. I don't mind camping, but the rent we paid did not justify the living conditions. The shower was outside and did not even possess a light. Same goes for the Porta-Potty, except a light showed you the way and illuminated all the cobwebs and giant spiders. When it rained, we had to slip outside in our pajamas and make a run for it. I had to remember my coat and shoes if I wanted to quickly use the mirror to check my hair and get ready for the day.
The studio was great for a single night or weekend type deal, but to live? Not all bells and whistles. I couldn't cook or properly wash our dishes. Our meals were eaten on the bed, and the TV shared a space on the counter.
I must admit, the atmosphere was rustic and quaint. A vinyl record player entertained us with Pink Floyd, Queen and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Sunsets from the room also added to the pros of our situation. I mean, a golden glow melting and buttering the green, green cemetery? No hole in that bread!
Home #2 of 3 - an upgrade! We have a hot shower and flushing toilet. We have a kitchenette that I can cook in and there's a brand new fridge that holes more than a liter of milk and bag of spinach. There's even a window by the sink that I can look out! Although the space is tinier than your average college dorm room, it's enough to get by for another month before we move into another small (but bigger) house. The view from our door is still the cemetery, but a quaint bridge and garden seclude us from the outside world. You'll be relieved to know that a stream (the River Styx) protects us from the underworld. The only complaint I have as of late is that I hit my hip walking through the narrow bathroom door, which turned out to be an after-thought construction.
Home #3 is yet to come, but in the New Year, improvements are in the works.
I'm fairly certain that if you can get through this tiny-house living with your significant other and still love each other at the end of the process, then you are destined to last.
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