the tiny house


It's true we are quite used to small living spaces - after we got married we shared a narrow terrace house with another lovely lady, then in france we expanded our family to three in a modest one bedroom granny-flat (maisonette), and now on the farm have been settling into our tiny house - which was once a garage and has just one room plus a small bathroom. 

Yes, it does feel a bit odd to sleep with one's head near an oven (perhaps a little Plath-y, but at least a truly magnificent oven). Yes, it really isn't easy sleeping so close to your toddler after you made big achievements with night-time sleeping in separate spaces. And yet we are comfortable and cosy here. We really only use the little house for sleeping, napping, showering, tea-making, resting, dressing... we work out-of-doors, and then most cooking and eating and playing happens in the main homestead.

We have made the space our own with furniture we found in the shed and dusted off, erected shelves, laid mats, piled books, stuck postcards and pages from magazines on the wall. I love the late morning sun that comes in the kitchen window, I love washing dishes to the scene of a bay tree and grass beyond, the sound of birds warbling in the shrubs outside the bathroom.

The walls are a lovely earthy green (not quite captured on film) and the rustic timber cladding is milled from the farm's own tasmanian oak trees. Henri, the quilt I made especially for this move looks perfectly at home. As does the bits and bobs we brought with us, like the whistling kettle, tin basin, french linen tea-towel and the beautiful garlic and pomegranate painting by our friend Jen Goss... 

It is our home only for the short-term, and yet it is our home because it is where my beloved kin and I dwell...