Recently a full length documentary on Tiny Houses called We, The Tiny House People. It is a great documentary on the Tiny House Movement that even had a few tiny house I haven’t even seen, which is pretty impressive. The idea came to her when she was sitting around bored at her parents retirement home, way out in the country, where at first glance, nothing was going on. Little did she know, she was in the hot bed of a social movement that would take her on a wild journey.
My aha moment was cinema-worthy. It was early September 2009, I had spent my first summer at my parents’ home in Cloverdale, California (the part of Sonoma County where few tourists stop).
Desperate to create value during my time here, once or twice a week, I’d been leaving their tightly-planned Truman-Show-style retirement community (you can barely cut your grass without a permit) for surrounding towns where residents were building Permaculture Homes and creating a livelihood from their backyard organic produce.
I don’t remember how I first heard about Jay Shafer and his teeny home, but at the time he was just another excuse to leave the retirement community. It wasn’t until I turned a street corner and was confronted with an impossibly-small-but-perfectly-complete home that it dawned on me that I’d stumbled onto something big.
As I opened his picket fence, Jay Shafer stepped out of his gingerbread house and began apologizing for all the shoes on his porch and mumbling something about being the “Imelda Marcos of Tiny House People” and I understood: I had just met the first of a breed of people who would soon occupy my life.