After months of agonizing, last fall I decided to have an oak tree cut down. It had insect damage, and was leaning in the direction of the tiny house. During every large storm, I lived in fear of getting a call or reading an email that the tree had toppled. If you’ve never cut down…

I hate you, mice. I hate you and your stupid mousy faces. Sigh. Well, I guess this means that “replacing the rotting threshold on the side door” just moved up to the first project to tackle come springtime. I suppose I should be eternally grateful that they are kind enough only inhabit the space between…

“The wood warms you once when you chop it, then when you stack it, again when the pile tumbles over and you have to restack it, it finally when you burn it.”

OK so the tiny house truly is not in the middle of nowhere. There are neighbors within eyesight. But coming from the city, it certainly feels more remote than I’m used to. So when I awoke to an urgent *BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG* on the side door, I was startled. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I rolled out of…

Do I get in “A” in wood pile tarping?

Now that the firewood is all stacked, I can now officially report: we will be having the warmest winter on record.

Well, another installment in the saga that is the insect-infested oak tree that we cut down. The good news about cutting down an oak tree is that you have firewood for life. The bad news is … there is lots and lots of wood to split. I’ve tried to split wood exactly one other time….

If you paint the window frames just before dusk, even if the paint feels dry to the touch, close the screens. Or don’t leave a light on just inside the window. 

The windows at the tiny house are in decent shape. But the putty (which holds the glass panes in place) is very dried and cracked. Last fall I took a razor blade and chipped out the old putty and re-applied some new. I didn’t just fine on window number one. But on window number two,…

Well, there goes the tree. Sigh. The decision to cut down this tree really reflects my standard decision-making process. Fret, get input from others, fret some more, do some research, fret, decide. Then regret.

I don’t find roaches in and of themselves terribly disgusting. They’re pretty small. Granted, they scurry in a creepy, buggy manner. But they’re scurrying AWAY from me, so that’s something to be grateful for.

If you know me well, you know I’m still a bit of a luddite. Maybe more than a bit. A smart phone still eludes me. I complain ceaselessly about my work technical difficulties. Just thinking about finding a new system to store all our digital photos makes my blood pressure rise. So for me, it’s…