There is no place like home. As someone who has spent her life moving, I know all too well what it is like to develop an attachment to a place, only to find yourself living somewhere entirely different in a few years. All of your pictures and belongings move, but somehow at first they don't look right in your surroundings. The furniture is a little too big, or too small, or the previous owners' wallpaper clashes with your couch, etc. As soon as that comfort level is reached, of having everything settled into its proper place, when you are familiar with all of the cracks in the ceiling and how to regulate the shower perfectly, it usually means that it is time to uproot again.
But what if your house didn't change, only the environment? What if your house was completely mobile, able to be hitched onto a trailer and brought along like a member of the family?
Needless to say, in order for this to happen, your abode would have to be portable, and by portable, I mean small. Enter Tumbleweed Houses. My friend Amy told me about them a few months ago, and they are fascinating. Designed by a guy called Jay Shafer, they are supposed to contain everything you need, and support an eco-friendly, sustainable lifestyle. It all sounds so good, so Walden. But when you consider the size of the smallest model offered, 70 feet - phew! That makes me clausterphobic just thinking about it. Still, imagine being able to fit your house into a parking space...
I like the idea of having to pare down to only the essentials. That would mean making some tough choices, and virtually eliminating anything that holds only sentimental value. Clothes, dishes, music, books - only the cream of the crop would survive. Never again would you find yourself in the basement going through boxes wondering what on earth could possibly be inside. You and your inventory of owned goods would have an intimate, daily relationship. Getting something new would take careful consideration, as it would mean that something old would have to be chucked out.
Weather would not be an issue. You could summer by the lake and winter in the mountains. Utilities would be kept to a minimum no matter what. Guests overstaying their welcome (or for that matter, staying at all) would never be a problem. Don't like your neighbors? Hitch up the trailer and hit the road!
One thing I noticed about the demo video is that Jay Shafer (and Dee Williams, a customer and now a member of the company) is extremely lean. He can wiggle his way around those tight corners with the grace of a cat, whereas when I picture myself in there...well, say it's a cold winter and you stay indoors a lot, eating popcorn and pancakes made on your tiny stove. Suddenly, you realize one day that you are stuck in the loft, or wedged in the shower, or trapped trying to get out of your tiny front door. You scream for help. But then you remember that you wanted peace and quiet and have shacked up in the middle of a national forest. What to do? Starve and wait till spring, I guess.
As you can probably tell, I have a little obsession with these Tumbleweed homes. They make me want to wear Nau clothing and be totally efficient and have the carbon footprint the size of a field mouse's. What a statement it would make. What freedom - my goodness, imagine having no morgage, and hardly any bills (no room for stuff!). It would be the oppostite of the Costco-shopping, belongings-accumulating lifestyle that many of us are trapped by. But then, what if I wanted a pet? A spouse? A big fluffy sweater? Wouldn't they need their own house?
I think that rather than a reality, the notion of Tumbleweed houses is a good reminder to me about what is essential in life. It is a window into an existence of forced simplicity, proof that we can live a decent lifestyle with only the bare minimum of possessions. It also reinforces the notion that you don't have to keep up with the Jones's, and in fact, there are those who are opting to get out of Jonesville completely.
