Utilities in a Tiny House

This is an excerpt from my new book.

This is a six part post. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 … more to come.

Utilities

Like the rest of the house, utilities and appliances were designed with simplicity
and sustainability in mind. They met my modest needs but would be
considered primitive by conventional American standards. These rudimentary
utilities certainly would not appeal to everyone interested in living in a
small home, and it should be made clear that living small does not require
deprivation. Hot and cold running water, a microwave oven, and cable TV are
all available options.

Water: Tumbleweed was supplied by a simple, gravity-fed plumbing system. A two-and-a-half-gallon pot sat on a metal shelf just above a horizontal section
of stovepipe in the overhead kitchen cabinet and drained into either the
kitchen sink or shower through a Y intersection in a short stretch of rubber
hose. The water was kept warm as long as the heat stove was on, and it
could be made hot by setting the pot directly on the stove or a burner. The
pot was filled at a nearby spigot. Gray water drained directly into the garden.

Heating and Cooking: The best source of heat most structures can use is that of the sun. I installed windows on all but what was intended as the north wall of Tumbleweed for good solar gain. A covered porch on the south side kept the heat of the high summer sun out while letting the lower winter rays flood the house with their warmth. A gas heater kicked in on cloudy days and cold nights. I chose a gas stove over a wood one mostly because gas stoves only require about one-sixth as much clearance from flammable surfaces. This, in turn, allowed me to have pine walls without having to put my heater right in the middle of an already tiny room. The cleanliness of gas also seemed to make sense in a small space, and I liked the idea of precise control with a thermostat rather than the frequent stoking that a small wood stove requires.

The propane tank that fed the heater also supplied an R.V. cooktop. It is upon
this same double burner that a camp oven was set for baking.

Toilet: My composting toilet amounted to little more than an airtight bucket, a can of sawdust and a couple of compost piles outside. Sordid story short,
the bucket was used as an indoor toilet and sawdust was put into the mix
to absorb odor and balance out the carbon-to-nitrogen ratio. This bucket
was emptied onto one compost pile or the other every so often, then rinsed.
(Please see J.C. Jenkins, The Humanure Handbook, for details on this and
other methods of composting human manure.) While the idea of carrying
one’s own poop (or anybody else’s for that matter) to a compost pile off
away from central living quarters may sound both inconvenient and plainly
unacceptable to most Westerners, its appeal for more than a few will be its
absolute efficiency. Without electricity, running water, or waste and only small
inconvenience as its price, a cleaner environment and soil-building compost
are made available.

Electricity: By now, these description of rudimentary plumbing and a plastic chamber pot may have made it sound as if my house was more derelict than
homey. But, as I have said, these utilities were of my choice, and for me,
choice is, in itself, a luxury. In fact, there was plenty of room for modern conveniences.
The integral CD player, TV, and VCR disqualified the house as
an ascetic’s shanty. These appliances, along with six lights, two fans, and a
radio, were all powered by the sun through a single solar panel. I chose not
to mount the panel on my roof but kept it separate. This allowed me to situate
the house in a shady place during the summer while collecting energy at the
same time.

The Small House Book
by Jay Shafer

Price: $36.95

Finish this tiny house yourself

Lusby for Sale

Last year I was inspired Jay’s beautiful Tumbleweed houses and wanted to follow in his footsteps. I attended his workshop and bought plans for the Lusby. Not being handy myself, I hired a professional builder of custom homes to build the exterior of my tiny house. Its home was to be on a perfectly picturesque New Hampshire lake. I put my traditional, 4 bedroom home on the market and waited… and waited…and waited. Not even one offer did I get, even after dropping with price by a third. With three kids in college, I couldn’t afford to keep holding on to both properties. I sold my lakeside lot and am now selling my tiny house.

It is completed on the exterior; the interior is partially done. Here are the specifications:
Dimensions
House width: 8’
House length: 19’
Trailer Size: 7’ x 18’
Road Height: 13’ 5″
Dry Weight: 8,000 to 10,000 lbs (estimated)
Porch: 7 ½’ x 3’
Main Room: 6 ½’ x 6 ½’
Kitchen: In main room
Bathroom: 3’ x 6’
Loft height: 3’ 8″
Ceiling height: 6’ 3″
(All measurements are approximate.)

The following features are currently a part of the tiny house:

1. shingled roof
2. cedar siding (painted)
3. exterior front door (African Mahogany with glass center panel)
4. pet door for cat or small dog
5. 3 windows and screens on each long side
6. loft windows (cannot open)
7. fiberglass shower
8. electric wiring
9. cable TV wiring

These items are included with the house but are not installed. Many are still in original shipping cartons.

1. 2 interior doors (African Mahogany)
2. antique style brass door knobs
3. stained glass inserts for loft windows plus extra piece that could be fastened to the front door
4. tiny toilet
5. bathroom pedestal sink with porcelain faucets
6. living room, bathroom and bedroom
7. handmade Cape Code lantern style porch lights
8. stainless kitchen sink (faucet not included)
9. kitchen sink cabinet
10. recycled jeans batt insulation (more is needed)
11. electric water heater, 10 gallon
12. wood stove, stainless steel enclosure and chimney pipe

What is not finished?

* the interior walls (drywall) and finish trim are not in
* interior doors are included but not installed
* finish flooring is not included
* lighting fixtures need to be installed after drywall is in
* porch lights need to be installed
* outlets and light switches are not included
* wood stove needs to be installed
* plumbing and kitchen fixtures need to be installed
* kitchen cabinet for sink needs to be installed (and more cabinets need to be purchased for rest of kitchen)
* kitchen appliances are not included
* stained glass inserts for loft windows need to be installed
* insulation is not complete
* ladder to loft is not included
* closets have not been built

The tiny house is currently in southern New Hampshire. You are welcome to come and pick it up or I’ll help you find a company to bring it to you.

SOLD

Happy Trails

I’m writing from Cheyenne, and I’ll be in Boulder by lunch time. Thanks to everyone for their enthusiasm. I get recharged every time I pull into a city and see all the smiling faces or get the thumbs-up from other drivers. Special thanks to Ginny, Sheila and Judy for letting me stay at their place in Salt Lake, and to Mark, Jodi, Scott and the good cop for spontaneously coordinating the parking and all.

I meet so many good people through these open houses. Thank you all.

Happy Trails.
Jay Shafer

California Nevada

Utah

Utah again

Wyoming

Hermitage for Sale

Mobile Hermitage For Sale!

The Mobile Hermitage, pictured here, is one of the homes that helped start the Small House Movement back in 2003. The Mobile Hermitage is now being offered for sale at a price of $30,000.

This home is owned by Greg Johnson, founder of the Small House Society, and is one of the very first Tumbleweed Houses ever built.

This is the same home that was featured on National Public Radio, Public Television, Better Homes and Gardens, and even the Oprah Winfrey show requested to have it on the show. The sale of the home will help advance the Small House Movement and make way for an exciting new development in smaller, simpler, more sustainable living.

It is approximately 60 square feet, and has a kitchen. For more info, please contact Greg directly.

My First Tiny House

This is an excerpt from my new book.

This is a six part post. Part 1 Part 2 … more to come.

Tumbleweed

It was not until after I thought I had already finished designing my little dream home that I became familiar with the term “minimum-size standards.” Up to this point, I had somehow managed to remain blissfully unaware of these codes; but, as the time for construction neared, my denial gave way to a grim reality. My proposed home was about one-third the size required to meet local limits. A drastic change of plans seemed unavoidable, but tripling the scale of a structure that had been designed to meet my specific needs so concisely seemed something like altering a tailored suit to fit like a potato sack.

I resolved to side-step the well-intentioned codes by putting my house on wheels. The construction of travel trailers is, after all, governed by maximum–not minimum–size restrictions, and since Tumbleweed already fit within these, I had only to add some space for wheel wells to make the plan work.

At about eight by twelve feet plus a porch, loft, and four wheels, the resulting house looked a bit like American Gothic meets the Winnebago Vectra. A steep, metal roof was supported by cedar-clad walls and turned cedar porch posts. The front gable was pierced by a lancet window. In the tradition of the formal plan, everything was symmetrical, with the door at exterior, front center. Inside, Knotty Pine walls and Douglas Fir flooring were contrasted by stainless steel hardware. There was a 7’ x 7’ great room, a closet-sized kitchen, an even smaller bathroom, and a 3’ 9”-tall bedroom upstairs. A cast-iron heater presided like an altar at the center of the space downstairs. In fact, the whole house looked a bit like a tiny cathedral on two, 3,500-pound axles.

The key to designing my happy home really was designing a happy life, and the key to that lay not so much in deciding what I needed as in recognizing all the things I can do without. What was left over read like a list I might make before packing my bags for a long trip. While I cannot remember the last time I packed my TV, stereo, or even the proverbial kitchen sink for any journey, I wanted this to be a list of items necessary not only to my survival, but to my contented survival. I am sure any hard-core minimalist would be as appalled by the length of my inventory as any materialist would be by its brevity. But then, I imagine nobody’s list of necessities is ever going to quite match anybody else’s. Each will read like some kind of self-portrait. I like to think that a house built true to the needs of its inhabitant will do the same.

The Small House Book
by Jay Shafer

Price: $36.95

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