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

This 125 square foot home utilizes a

tiny house design staple – the loft bed.

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

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?

Reflections: Dorothy Harris

I know I kind of left things hanging with my last post and that you're all desperately wondering about the fate of the silkworm. Fear not, the conclusion is still coming – I'm about halfway through composing it and, let me tell you, it's an emotional roller coaster. You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll get grossed out and say "eeewww" over the close-up photo of a big, fat, worm. 

But before all that happens I wanted to post something that has nothing to do with houses, trees, or the fair treatment of insects (I get the hankering to do that sometimes). This is an entry I wrote while manning the Feats Festival of Dance blog back in July 2013. It's about the illustrious Dorothy Harris – Edmonton dance pioneer and guest of honour at this weekend's fiftieth anniversary gala for University of Alberta organization Orchesis. The blog I originally wrote the following for is no longer in existence, so I thought I'd give it a second life and once again send a big thank you into the universe for Orchesis, Dorothy Harris and the magnificent art form that is dance.

Because the University of Alberta's Orchesis has been such an important part of my own life, I wanted the first "Reflections" post to focus on Dorothy Harris—the dance group's founder. I had the pleasure of meeting Dorothy at an awards luncheon, where she regaled me with tales from her past lives—and I use the plural here because, when it comes to dance, she's done it all. Performer, dance educator, dance advocate—Dorothy is the reason Orchesis is nearing its fiftieth birthday and, because of what she created, modern dance at the U of A continues to be a positive force for students, alumni, staff and the larger community.

Dorothy Harris,
circa 1939.

Dorothy began studying dance at a young age and she notes that, as a youth, she didn't even know modern dance existed. It wasn't until moving to Wisconsin to study kinesiology that she was exposed to this particular (and sometimes peculiar) form of expression. There, she met Margaret H'Doubler, who in 1918 had created the first Orchesis dance group. Though Dorothy never completed her degree at the University of Wisconsin, her time spent with Orchesis made enough of an impression that—when she began teaching for the University of Arkansas' physical education department—she decided they needed an Orchesis program of their own.

After finding a husband in the young man who took care of Orchesis' music (she laughed as she told me, "I married an Arkansan!"), Dorothy headed to Edmonton for a job with the University of Alberta's Office of the Registrar. But dance quickly called her back when an opening arose in the Faculty of Physical Education. In 1964, Dorothy began an Orchesis dance group at the U of A and credits Maury Van Vliet, the Faculty of Physical Education's Dean at the time, for his support of dance education. "He really turned me loose and said 'go ahead.'"

Dorothy (far left) with a late 1960s Orchesis class.

From there, Dorothy—along with various colleagues, contacts and friends—spent the next several decades ensuring that dance had a place in Edmonton and beyond. They created the Alberta Dance Alliance and ensured dance academia was included in Canadian physical education conferences. According to Dorothy, there was always a strong dance presence in this province, but her focus was on creating connections between different styles and different individuals. In essence, to create a community of support and mutual respect. "The arts seem to draw such wonderful people. Everything we ever tried... if we believed in it—it worked."

A page from the program for
Orchesis' Dance Motif 1972.

As for Dorothy's thoughts on Edmonton's current dance scene, which she retired from over twenty years ago? "I think there are some wonderful things going on right now, but—about dance—I feel like I did that." Dorothy admits the only dance event she currently attends is the U of A's annual Orchesis performance, Motif. She still loves dance and all it represents, but has other interests now—such as gardening. Not to mention her children and grandchildren. "I've had the most wonderful life that anybody could have. It's all been very worthwhile—not just for me, but for all the people I've worked with and played with. I'm the luckiest person alive."

And now for something I think is pretty darn cool... While visiting the "Dance Dungeon" (a storage room at the U of A where the Orchesis archives are kept) with Orchesis' current director Tamara Bliss, I was able to obtain a video clip from Dance Motif 1972. The older Motif performances have yet to be digitized, which means I got to dust off my VCR (and if you're reading this and don't know what a VCR is... go ask your parents). I filmed the following video with a digital camera as it played on my TV screen, so please excuse the quality. Still, I think it's worth viewing, particularly in the spirit of this year's Feats Festival's theme. So, take a gander—and reflect for a little while.