Tiny houses and tree houses go together like shrimp over grits or gravy over biscuits.(Cravin’ some southern food, can you tell?) I have to reveal that I not so secretly wish to live in a tiny tree house community. I actually visited a tree house community in Belgium that consisted of 6-10 people on any given day. They were squatting the land trying to save the last bit of woods outside Brugge. Unfortunately, they lost their battle with the developers and the trees were cut down but it was a really interesting community to visit for a few days. I wasn’t crazy about having to descend ropes every time I needed to tinkle in the night and then ascend back to bed but it was a really fun experience. I would definitely want a staircase as well as climbing equipment to reach my tiny tree house. Options are a good thing. Check out the following worthy pics for inspiration.
If I look over and see even a simple platform for some children in a tree I get giddy. I have seriously considered hopping more than one fence to test the enjoyment of a structure in a tree. Tree houses for me imbue this feeling of childlike exuberance and whimsy. What else could you feel when you see a treehouse? Unless you are afraid of heights and then just don’t answer that question.
I’m not an old school tree house enthusiast who may see a structure like this and balk. I’m all about innovation. How far can tree house design be pushed? How does such a structure incorporate a modern lifestyle with an ancestral habitat? I’ve got similar questions for the tiny house movement. Humans have been migrating back and forth across this planet for so long, I think it’s in my genetics to crave mobility. Carrying your home with you is how the human race lived for millennia until agriculture came along. For me, it a big reason why I’m so attracted to the tiny house on wheels lifestyle but I could be convinced to stay put in any one of these tree houses!
Ideal aesthetic scenario: my garden starts to overtake my tree house. Ideal tree for a treehouse: Banyan for sure although probably super challenging since it’s branches grow horizontally towards the ground, not vertically from a center trunk.
The above structure reminds me of my favorite place at Disney World. The Swiss Family Robinson treehouse attraction. I could have spent all day there pretending I was shipwrecked and livin’ it up treehouse style.
Hang me a hammock off this thing and I’m home!
What kind of tree would you build your tree house around?
The great thing about Pinterest is all the really neat things you find on there, the not so great is you emerge several hours later feeling like only a few minutes have passed. I found these during my browsing and thought I’d share with you all. I have created a Pinterest Board here. Show me your awesome Tiny House and Small Space Pinterest Boards by sharing a link in the comments section!
Show me your awesome Tiny House and Small Space Pinterest Boards by sharing a link in the comments section!
I have recently been trying to wrap my head around how to incorporate the ability to do laundry in a small space. I have struggled with this because laundry is something I do only every few weeks, so it begs the question, is it worth the space in a tiny house or should one just “outsource” it as some call it, to a laundry service. If I were to have it in my tiny house the bathroom is a logical space because it is a space that you use for only a small part of the day. The same is true for a laundry room so it makes sense to combined them and make the room more useful. So today I wanted to show you all this video from Ikea and how they approach this problem.
Here is an exert from a great piece called “The art of living in a small space” It give some great advise and another view point
Long ago, I read that to live in the country you must have the soul of a poet, the dedication of a saint, and a good station wagon. Today I suppose you’d have to update the station wagon to an SUV, but the fact remains: To live successfully anywhere outside the mainstream of life you must have an unconventional spirit coupled with down-to-earth practicalityâ€”a combo that can be hard to find and harder still to balance. I live in the country, but my latest life choices have also involved living in miniature spacesâ€”which presents an additional set of challenges, both to the soul and to practicality. For the last three years I’ve shared a one-room cabin with a pack of dogs and one outnumbered but boldly unflappable cat. The cabin has an exterior footprint of 409 square feetâ€”nine feet above the minimum my county requires for a residence. Its interior space is about 360 square feet, including closets and cabinet space.
I work as well as live here, so I’m in this one room 24 hours a day, except when the critters and I are out dog walking, running errands, picking blackberries, or otherwise adventuring. On winter days, when I’m tripping over tails, wiping up muddy pawprints for the umpteenth time, and having accusatory canine noses stuck into my computer (“Mom, we’re booooored!”) the cabin sometimes feels as small as a shoebox. On summer afternoons, it’s luxuriously spacious with its glass door thrown open to sunlight and all its denizens sprawled on the deck. In fact it seems so large that I’m currently contemplating spending part of my year in a structure about one third this size. Think dollhouse (or rather, converted garden shed).
I’m hardly alone. Even as the size of the average new American house has more than doubled (from 1,100 square feet during the post-WWII housing boom to more than 2,225 by 1999), more and more people are also exploring small-space living. These include, most visibly, RVers spending months in their cleverly designed rolling homelets, simple-living advocates wanting to use fewer resources, homeless camper-dwellers, folks living on boats, and country newcomers (like many readers of this magazine) who are camping out in garages, trailers, cabins, or sheds while building their dream homes. Finally you’ve got people like me who’d rather have 409 paid-for square feet than 2,225 square feet of mortgaged luxury. RVers and boat dwellers have built-in advantages. Literally built-in. RVs and boats, with their endless crannies, hidden storage spaces, and double-purpose furnishings (like tables that turn into beds) provide the construction model for the rest of us. But there’s more to small-space living than just clever design. Living well in tiny spaces has four parts:
Let’s take a brief look at all four. Oh, and before we do, I’ll confess that a lot of my knowledge comes from what I-didn’t-anticipate, or I-didn’t-do when I built my cabin. It was a learning experience.
This is just the intro, Read more of the Article here