Width
Wider! That’s what I could use, width! Not personally. From some angles, I have sufficient width, or at least girth. But my recent home tour video may make the point well; my tiny house does not lack size, but I miss width. Size matters, but so does shape.
My new (lived here a year) old (built in 2006) big (391 square foot) tiny house works well for most of what I need and want. Thanks. But watch that video and notice how long and narrow it is. Many tiny houses are designed to be towed on roads. That limits their width. So, 391 square feet means a reasonably long house. That’s fine. It’s almost enough space for pacing. But no house is perfect, and it can take time living in a space to appreciate its realities. In this case, width.
Exercise
How much room do most folks need for exercise? I don’t know, but I’m surprised to see how little space some folks use in gyms. They have their favorite equipment; their favorite equipment needs some space, but not much more. Handy, especially if you are managing a public gym and paying for square footage.
But my main indoor workouts do not use equipment. I use me. I shove me around in various ways because I practice an old style of karate. Some of the exercises are simulated scenarios, like one person surrounded by three opponents. Add in something like a long stick, and it is easy to need a space with dozens of feet: left/right, forward/back, and a dozen up. That doesn’t fit in my tiny space. It wasn’t a problem for the people who created the style of karate I practice (Shobayashi Shorinryu) because they practiced outside in fields and on beaches.
That lack of usable space was frustrating. Working out outside in my mobile home park wasn’t practical and lacked privacy. Okinawans working out on the beach may not have issues, but practicing karate on an American beach can upset just enough sensibilities to be a nuisance. Local gyms didn’t help. They were big enough, but they were filled with equipment or had other restrictions.
Ah, but a solution presented itself. I like to dance. Old rural dance halls in my neighborhood can be rented for about $20 an hour. So, a few times a week, I rent the place. It is an extravagance, and I treat the historic building with reverence, but renting the space has improved my health because I’m more likely to work out. By the way, those few twenties a week seem extravagance, but buying a house big enough to not require them would cost a lot more.
Dancing
Ah, dancing. Like sparring but with more consent and much lighter contact - and smiles. My skinny house could hold a small party. My neighbors have done so, but at least for now, I’ve configured my space for efficiency. I am a writer. (amazon) I am currently working on one book (personal finance) with another slotted in behind it (science fiction), a screenplay (true story about a 14-year-old brat aboard a tall ship in 1876), several blogs, a YouTube channel, a podcast (Intriguing Creativity), and I’m probably leaving something out. There isn’t much room left for a guest, and definitely not enough for a party.
I like hosting parties. Until I moved into my tiny, I held about three parties a year. Usually, they would be about a dozen friends, mostly talking, but if enough of them were dancers the party would shift to moving to music. In my small house on Whidbey Island, there was one party that had thirty people and four different dance areas. In a very ad hoc fashion, the living room was swing, office was nightclub two-step, the carport was latin, and the deck was for traveling waltz. It also filled my small 868 square foot house. It was a good night.
The party and the dance worked well enough because the house was square enough, and because it had outdoor spaces. My tiny house neighbors rent tents to handle the main part of their parties. I haven’t tried that yet.
Of course, I could just hire out a hall for a day, workout in the morning, and have a party there later that day. Some day, maybe.
Tiny houses are defined by their size, but their shape matters, too. My current furniture arrangement is temporary. My writing is not temporary, but I continue to consider buying land for a more permanent residence. Maybe I move my tiny there. There’s one bit of acreage that already has a tiny on it. Buy and sell? It happens.
A tiny house with all the necessities, on a shy acre at least, with room for an outdoor pavilion, maybe a garage and some storage? There’d even be enough room for parking for my guests. Ah. Let me check my lottery tickets, or at least my lottery ticket stocks. (TrimbathCreative.net)