Sunday, April 25, 2010

...and Small Is Better than Big least when it comes to houses - I'll stay out of that other argument.

There are a lot of challenges to living in a small house. My 3-member family started in a 1300 sq.ft. space with a double-car garage and a 900 sq. ft. basement. We didn't really worry about space. Now we live in a 2-story cottage that has (maybe) 750 sq. ft. of useable space. Even after selling a lot of our belongings on Craigslist, we still have too much for this house.

It's a mess. And, yet...

I love it.

When I was eight, my parents bought two acres in the middle of nowhere in Northern California. While we waited to break ground on my parents' dream home (something that, sadly, never happened), the four of us lived in a tiny little 16' travel trailer.

I remember learning long division and some rudimentary algebra in that trailer. I read "Where the Red Fern Grows" over and over and learned the lines for my first starring role. We didn't have a television, so we played board games and read every night at the little table that folded into a bed for my mom. My brother and I slept on the top bunk, just above her, and my dad had the sofa bed near the back of the trailer.

I lived in another travel trailer, an even smaller one, when I first went to college in the early 90s. It was cheap and there was a pool at the R.V. park. I would hang out at the clubhouse with the retirees, putting together puzzles and playing checkers. I had a small t.v., but the only thing I remember watching was Conan O'Brien.

Our little house definitely needs organized and could use a deep clean, but some of my best memories are from the smallest places - small houses, small salons, even small towns...

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