Apartment Living… In the Country

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I realized I haven't posted an update on one of the main focuses of this blog, which is my own adventures in designing a brand new home, in a very long time… I actually don't think I've ever posted an update on the subject, if I'm being honest. And, if you know me, you know I'm always honest. So update on!

We may not live there yet, but "The Land"
still feels like home.

When it comes to the type of house we'd like to build on what we've affectionately dubbed "The Land" (40 acres of rolling hills and trees just north of Stony Plain, Alberta), my husband and I have gone back and forth, up and down and in all other possible directions.

What started out as a Victorian-inspired, turreted two-storey morphed into a one-and-a-half storey cape cod/craftsman complete with matching carriage house. Somewhere in between there were talks of living in an RV parked on the land (I'm all for living small, but there's a difference between a beautifully designed tiny home and year-round camping), or doing the whole modular home thing (which comes with it's own set of difficulties). We even went and looked at a log cabin that needed to be moved off an industrial piece of land with thoughts of renovating the crap out of the decrepit old thing. But yeah… umm… no…

Inspiration the first… (Funny story
about this image – I got it off
Google Maps after seeing it on
an episode of "Supernatural.")

And all the while one possibility came up again, and again, and again. What if we built a garage that was also an apartment? (Also sometimes called a coach house or the aforementioned carriage house.) Not having a garage on our property isn't really an option when there inevitably will be skid steers and graders and hoes to store and maintain. This fact is something you accept when you're married to a heavy-equipment operator. Just like you accept that when you're married to a writer there will be books. Lots and lots of books. Oh, and also no money.

So, unless we want to throw down some bedrolls amidst the oil stains, we'll also need somewhere to lay our weary heads. As I already briefly mentioned, we've always said we'd like to have an apartment above the garage anyway for either a rental suite our a guest/grandparent suite. So, why not do a two birds, one stone type thing?

Inspiration the second...

Now, the plan was to build the garage apartment first, live in it for awhile, then build our "real-life home" (the term I use instead of "dream home," because you might as well add "Barbie" to the start of the latter phrase), but being the fiscally responsible people we are, Devin and I knew there was a possibility it was a one or the other type thing. Build the house – no garage apartment. Build the garage apartment – no house.

Picture something like this, but with
less landscaping and more... land.

And so it went on like this… for a long time. Until the decision was made that if we ever want to live on "The Land" we'd better you-know-what or get off the you-know-what. And thus we went with the [hopefully] less expensive option of the two, which is why I'm about to wrap up this blog post, fire up AutoCAD and put the finishing touches on the design I've been feverishly working on for the last few months.

Part workshop, part living quarters. Part logical, part lovely. Part garage, part apartment. All home.

How do you feel about garage apartments? Would you ever live in one? What does your "real-life home" look like (not the one you already live in, but the one you envision at night to lull yourself to sleep… or am I the only one who does that…)?

The Houses in Which We Live No. 3: Tiny Homes

This 125 square foot home utilizes a

tiny house design staple – the loft bed.

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I've been infatuated with the "tiny house movement" since the moment I heard about it, which isn't surprising since I've always had a love-on for the little. From the plastic toy toilet I used to hide from my sister as a child (I didn't want to share), to the miniature potbelly pig I desperately wanted for a pet as a teenager, I've been cultivating my weird obsession with tiny versions of full-sized things my whole life. And now, here is a movement that not only bolsters one of my many eccentricities – it also validates it – because tiny houses aren't just adorable, they could save the planet too.

A tiny home is 500 square feet or less, although I've read about people building homes as itsy bitsy as 96 square feet (about the size of a smallish bedroom). Did I mention the average Canadian home currently sits at around 1,900? So… what are we doing with the extra 1,400 square feet? Why, filling it with stuff, of course!

According to website The Tiny Life, having less stuff ("Life Simplification") is one of the core principles of tiny house living, along with "Environmental Consciousness" (tiny houses have smaller footprints – literally and metaphorically), "Self Sufficiency" (68 per cent of tiny house owners have no mortgage), "Sound Fiscal Plans" (32 per cent of tiny house owners have more than $10,000 saved for retirement) and "Life Adventures" (what could be more adventurous than raising three kids under the age of seven in a 400 square foot home?).

With only 1 per cent of American home buyers purchasing a residence that is 1,000 square feet or less (1,000 square feet is the cutoff for a house to be considered "small"), it's clear that extreme downsizing isn't for everyone. But I think there are a few things the tiny house movement can teach us all.

"The Little House in Little Rock," is just a

hair bigger than a tiny house, but it's so

flippin' beautiful I think we can forgive
the extra 57 square feet.

Build Better, Not Bigger

Back in my favourite decade – the good ol' 90s – English-born, American-based architect Sarah Susanka published her design ideas, based on the principle of quality over quantity, in The Not So Big House, which served as a launchpad for the tiny house movement. According to the book's website, "Not So Big doesn't necessarily mean small. It means not as big as you thought you needed, but designed and built to perfectly suit the way you live." Essentially, think before you build! A bigger house not only isn't better, it also leads to a higher upfront construction cost, a higher overall cost to maintain the home and, as mentioned above, just a whole lot of wasted space to fill with wasteful things.

The Simple Life

When you permanently live in a home the same size as some people's recreational vehicles, you have to make simplification a priority. And it's within this task that tiny house owners shine. My favourite example (and one I'm currently implementing in my own not-so-tiny, but also not-so-big residence) I watched a video about a couple who lived in a tiny home. Their office was about the size of a regular home's linen closet. To maximize their space, they scanned all their officey-type documents into their computer and then shredded the paper copy. Well, let me tell you, this blew my mind. Before I began my own shredding extravaganza I would say a good 3 feet by 2 feet of the closet floor in my office was dedicated to those clunky plastic filing boxes. Not only am I now saving space, I'm saving something even more precious – time – because all I do after I open a piece of important mail is scan, shred, done.

Tiny homes can even come with wheels, an idea

popularized by Jay Shafer, owner of Tumbleweed
Tiny House Company.

Less Truly Does Equal More

Although I already briefly touched on the decreased environmental impact of a tiny house, it is – by and far – the most important facet of this movement. Statements similar to the following currently echo throughout our daily lives – if we want to continue to live on a planet that doesn't resemble The Day After Tomorrow, something has to change (but don't worry, Jake Gyllenhaal can stay). Website Planet Forward calls tiny house living "one of the rare instances in which cheap and green go hand in hand." For everyone who has ever wanted to "go green" only to gasp at the price of organic foods, eco-friendly cleaning supplies, clothing made of natural materials and alternative energy sources like solar panels, here is a price that is truly startling: $23,000. As in, the average cost to build a tiny home, if built by the owners. Plus, a smaller home means lower heating and electricity costs, and a lot more money available to invest in all the cool, new eco-inventions for the home – like an incinerating toilet (which is small, but not small enough to hide from your sibling).

So maybe a tiny home isn't in your future, but a tinier, simpler life? Now, doesn't that sound nice…

Want to learn more about tiny life living? Watch this video! As for your comments, which I'm always dying to receive, please post them below. Would you live in a 500 square foot house? If not, are there ways you'd like to incorporate the tiny house principles into your life?

To Duvet or Not to Duvet: The Not-So-Fluffy Side of the Bedding Industry, Part 2

According to PETA, "approximately 3,000 silk worms die
to make one pound of silk."

Read this post as well as new content on the completely redesigned Of Houses and Trees!

For Part 1 of this post, click here.

Ah, silk. Is there any more luxurious a fabric? A natural protein fibre, silk has been used in the creation of clothing, furnishings, parachutes and, yes, even bedding.

To me, silk will always be a smell, a department store and my keen-nosed mom. I remember fondly the times I followed her as she followed that earth-scented trail – leading us to a scarf, a dress, a pair of flowy draw-stringed pants that would be sniffed and then left behind after we'd gawked at the price.

Silk bedding is often pitched as an excellent alternative to down duvets due to its hypoallergenic properties. But, just as with down – the production of silk has a disturbing side.

He/she may not be cute and fuzzy, but humans aren't
so cute and fuzzy either.

According to Earth Divas, a website that sells fair-trade and cruelty-free products, the silkworms used in the production of human goods have now been farmed for so long they no longer exist in the wild and are considered a domesticated insect. If allowed, a silkworm would follow the natural stages of metamorphosis – egg, larval, pupal, adult, but the majority of silkworms are boiled alive or gassed inside their cocoons before they can further mature (as emerging from their cocoon would destroy some of the silk).

The creepiest aspect of all this, to me, is that if a domesticated silkworm were allowed to live to its moth phase (Bombyx mori), it would be blind and lack the ability to fly. This not-so-fun fact reminds me of reading about KFC chickens being bred without beaks or feet. Thankfully, according to Snopes, this is a false accusation as this practice "is still beyond the reach of modern science for the time being." Hmm, "for the time being"…? Reassuring.

But I digress. There is a product called peace silk, which is made by wild moths that are allowed to pass throughout all metamorphosis stages and go on to die a natural death, however I wasn't able to find whether there are peace silk duvets – mostly because I got distracted by another great alternative – bamboo duvets.

It's okay. The bamboo doesn't feel a thing.

We've probably all heard it by now, "bamboos are some of the fastest growing plants in the world… certain species of bamboo can grow 35 inches in a 24-hour period" (from Wikipedia). (Although, I'm sure if I did enough research I'd find a dark side to bamboo harvesting too. I know, I'm such a killjoy.) This means it's a very, very sustainable product and can be used in the creation of everything from cooking utensils to clothing to building materials to snowboards. And don't forget about bedding!

Bamboo duvets aren't cheap, but neither are the down or silk versions. I also had a hard time finding a variety of buying options – my choices were all online and often came with a hefty shipping cost. At the end of the day, I ended up going with a good, old synthetic duvet.

Sure, manmade materials come with their own issues, but I made sure the one I purchased was Oeko-Tex certified – meaning it was produced in an environmentally friendly manner and is free from harmful substances (i.e.: formaldehyde, which is often used to keep fabrics wrinkle-free and moisture-resistant, all while adding just a sprinkle of cancer-causing dust).

Phew. That was a lot of talk about blankets. I think I'll go lie down now…

While I'm napping beneath my Oeko-Tex certified duvet, tell me – what kind of sustainable products do you own? Doesn't have to be sleep related. Perhaps you own a bamboo bra? A peace silk purse? Something else I'm not clever enough to alliterate about?