June 1, 2008
I Want to Live In One of These
Tiny Texas Houses builds these, and I find myself longing to own one. I love the house we live in now, but something in me has always pushed me toward very small houses, made of stone or wood or adobe–houses that seem to sit at the center of any place you put them. If you had a big “spread,” as they say down here, you might even want to buy several of these and thus have a big house that was just scattered about in an interesting way.
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25 Responses to “I Want to Live In One of These”
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Maybe before we ‘flockers are old and stove-up, we can buy us one of them spreads and strew it with tiny houses. Then, when we are old and stove-up, we can go live there instead of the old folks’ home.
It looks like Pinky Diablo’s house, or at least how I imagine his house looks.
Didn’t Pinky’s own Miss Love own a dear little dwelling very like this? I tried to track it down, but I couldn’t find it.
Yup. It was posted a few months ago, I reckon.
Found it! The one I was thinking of, anyways. It is so worth seeing and reading about.
That’s the one, Sheila. More than a few months ago!
Daryl — me too. I love small houses. I live in one actually, a converted one-room school house from the 1890’s. We have one bedroom and two young sons (a two-year-old and a two-week-old). Right now we all fit just fine in the one bedroom, but I’m looking forward to building a few bedrooms on our property, not necessarily connected to the main house.
Once a while back when Pinky was over at our house he noticed that I had an old book–Tiny Houses (1987)–that he had and loved too. I still get it out and look at it often.
That’s great, Jake. Is it on a big lot? Those two boys will soon be wanting room to run, I’m sure! And I bet you will want a little quiet time yourselves at some point–so having the “rooms” spread out is a fine idea. Easier to child-proof a small place for safety, too.
Daryl, I have the exact idea. Except my little houses would be connected by underground passages and open air decks. or covered walkways. spread out, sort of scrambled, on an open field. maybe all white with tin roofs.
Oh I like that, Deron. The dark side of me wants the underground tunnels; but the stand-on-the-porch-while-it’s-raining-its-ass-off wants the covered walkways. Maybe I could have both! Also, I have thought of having little houses on low, radiating rail lines: you could bring all the houses in close for a party, or one of them could head off as a writer’s retreat / painting studio, or everybody could keep their distance and wave at times across a few hundred yards of waving grass. What if this variable distance was a record of emotional wave fronts–a social image known by stars but not by people, except for a fleeting sense of transcending form.
I think Sheila has the right idea. We should create a clusterflock old-folks commune.
I’m serious.
Daryl. Deron. Ever thought of moving to southern Illinois? Have I got a deal for (one or both of) you!
How about a 3 BR/2 BA house tucked away on 3 1/2 wooded acres with stream? The property includes a semi-detached workshop, ideal for conversion to home office or guest bedroom — and you could sink a staircase into it directly from the long, skinny unfinished space (more storage space than you’ll ever need) that continues the unique mezzanine area and runs over the breezeway.
But wait! There’s more! Huge enclosed porches both front and back. Two-vehicle attached carport. And — free-standing storage shed!
Let’s make a deal.
But if the deal don’t fly — or even if it does — why, yes, Cindy. An old-folks commune. Preferably in the desert.
Or southwestern Wisconsin.
Or some affordable (snicker), undiscovered (snort) Mediterranean spot.
I think about this. And I don’t want to wait till I’m eighty (if and when) to act on it.
I know! Let’s get Cooper to set everything up.
Oh, but it can’t be one of those communal communes. My friend Melanie and I survived three days of life in ‘cooperative housing’ in Austin back in 1972, after which we fled, never to repeat the experiment. Melanie’s observation echoed my response: “I think I’m too aristocratic to be a communist.”
Yeah, we need to be separated. We’ll sit in our pajamas in our scattered little houses and post comments to each other.
And sometimes we’ll get drunk and wander into one another’s little cottages.
Exactly. And we’ll try not to shoot each other.
And for fun gather weekly at the Community Sock Puppet Theater to take turns yelling at kids to get off our lawns in the most ironic ways imaginable.
Oh, Tracy, thank you for reminding me. Daryl and I need to get on the stick and put on our Texas Self-Deprecating Sock Puppet presentation.
And, by the way–aren’t we supposed to be getting a film of the Nun vs. Uncle Sam bout?? I didn’t send you that dang nun for nothin’.
Cindy, is that boxing nun you sent Tracy one of those Liberation Theology nuns who runs off to places like Guatemala and riles Uncle Sam?
Funny you mention that – I’ve come up with a couple of nun-based contraptions but they’re just weak and not worthy. I’m hoping to bring the sister along to this month’s Pride Day celebration for inspiration. I anticipate many scandalous vignettes.
Tracy, I’ve been honing my act since I was barely thirty, based on a performance that originated with a co-worker/friend who developed a great old-man-on-the-porch yelling-at-kids routine. “Hey, you kids — god-dammit . . . ” An explosive “hey” coupled with a rise to a half-standing position, followed by a weakening retreat and collapse.
Ah, Tracy, I should have known you were simply holding out for quality. I’ll be patient; greatness cannot be rushed.
Sheila, I’m not sure of the political (or sexual) bent of the nun–I simply ordered a generic boxing nun through the mail. Now that I think of it, I probably should have specified. But life is like a box of chocolates–you never know what you’re gonna get.
Okay, I’m very sorry for that last sentence.
I like the idea of getting more than one and spreading them on the property