A Quick Getaway

At my job, I don't get weekends. It's a fair trade because I have a lot of flexibility, so with planning I'm able to work pretty much any kind of trip into my schedule. But not having two consecutive days off can make spontaneous adventures difficult to maneuver.  Or so I thought.

Yesterday around 11, I was puttering around the store, frequently glancing at the windows and thinking about how badly I wanted to get out in the gorgeous sunshine. I only work til 2 most Wednesdays, and while that leaves plenty of daylight hours in which to recreate, I didn't want to repeat another short, local hike. I wanted to really be in the woods. I wanted to fall asleep snug against the cold ground and wake up to the silent sleepiness of sun-warmed trees. 

So that's what I did.

I have exactly 19 hours between my shifts on Wednesday and Thursday, and that was just enough time to pack up, pick up some supplies, drive to the adorably teensy Cole Hill State Forest, and hike in a few miles.

The trees don't even have leaves yet, and I still reveled in the simple and staggering beauty of them.

I also took my stove out for it's very first adventure! Ultimately, that was the most exciting part of this miniature adventure; I'd used my gear a fair amount, but never for real backpacking, nor had I ever gone true camping by myself before. This was my very first night in the woods without either my father or my trusty Subaru several feet away. 

I would like to be able to proudly say that I was fearless and calm and the entire experience chockablock full of serenity. But that was only the case until about 10:00 pm. Truth be told, after falling asleep around 9:30, happy and cozy in my tent, I woke a mere half hour later, considerably chillier and suddenly aware of JUST how many more noises echoed in the woods now that the sun had set. For the first time in my life (one in which camping and hiking have always been a pretty common occurrence), I found myself afraid of the forest. Every rustle sounded ten times louder, and my robust imagination did a great job filling in lots of creepy possible perpetrators. 

The worst was when the owls started calling. I've never witnessed a forest full of wide awake owls, and the sounds they make are eerie as all hell. Beautiful. But eerie.

After expending considerable effort to calm down, as well as keep warm, I exhausted myself enough to fall back asleep, and in the morning woke up to once again sunny and silent woods. 

That's the wonderful thing about spending time in nature; it pushes you to uncomfortable places, and then rewards you with warm sun, cool water, and unfailing beauty. And it does all of that simply by allowing you to exist within it. 

A Tiny Slice of Heaven

Last weekend, I did an unlikely thing- I had a terrific vacation in Long Island.

Now, before I offend any Lawn Guylan'ers, I do realize there are very beautiful parts of the island, but those aren't generally adjacent to LaGuardia, which is where I spent April 25th and 26th. In the basement of  Marriott, to boot. It was a most unlikely venue for one of the most magical weekends I've had, but it just goes to show you- life is odd.

For once, though, it wasn't me that was odd, and I have Tumbleweed to thank for that. I attended one of their workshops, and all weekend no one thought me strange for being a crunchy, vegan, tiny-house-building, business-hippie. That's what happens when you get about 50 tiny house enthusiasts in one room; open-mindedness doesn't have to be sought out or cajoled- it's already present in spades! As soon as everyone started introducing themselves, I found myself overwhelmed by the sheer like-mindedness. As is almost always the case when you talk with tiny housers, the idea kept cropping up again and again of creating a smaller home in order to live a larger life, and ultimately, that's what brought each of us there and why I felt the presence of such kindred spirits; we truly value life, and the idea of cutting down on costs, both financial and environmental, so that we might spend less time administrating our lives, and more time inhabiting them fully, drives us.

In short, it was brilliant. Not only was the workshop cram-packed with a ton of information, most of which backed up what I'd already researched, and the rest of which I would never have come across on my own, but it was also quite touching and a massive stress relief to spend time among people to whom I didn't have to justify my decision to live in a 150 square foot wheeled house with a composting toilet (read: bucket).

They even found a tiny house for us to explore! The lovely couple behind Runaway Shanty agreed to tow their gorgeous house halfway to us.

Absolutely beautiful. Even though I ultimately decided against a gambrel roof for my own house, it was nice to see one in person. I also found great comfort in finally seeing the real life actuality of the dimensions I've had in my head all this time (we chose the same size trailer), and I no longer have even an inkling of a doubt in my ability to roost happily in such a small space.

I seriously couldn't have imagined a more useful or delightful weekend. It shone so much light  and confidence in my plans and capability, a lot of respect and gratitude for the company that sold me my trailer, and, best of all, a network of tiny housers in the Northeast.
I canNOT wait to get this project underway!

I still have a bit to wait until my trailer arrives, but I'll update soon!

a huge tiny announcement!

A little over a year ago, I wrote this post.

In it I listed my wistful desires to live in an adorably tiny house, outfitted with a chic little couch and an espresso machine.

At the time I thought owning a tiny house, much like dropping $2000 on a coffee maker, would always remain a daydream. I've loved small spaces and miniaturized paraphernalia my whole life, and I used to live for the RV and houseboat shows at the local mall, when I could spend hours exploring every carefully thought out nook and cranny. I'd grown so accustomed to associating small and efficient homes with childhood play and dreams that when I fell in love with the tiny house movement nearly ten years ago, it took ages before I realized, not only how easily I make this happen, but the complete and utter sensibility of making it happen.

someone else's lovely tiny house!

I finally saw that it wasn't only the allure of something being child-sized that has always drawn me to cosy hideaways, it was my respect for the sheer efficiency of it all. On some level, I've disliked excess my entire life, and as I grew older and more aware of the millions of starving people and dying animals, on this planet that we're quickly demolishing, the sight of enormous new developments and overflowing landfills sent (and sends) shivers down my spine. I started giving more and more thought to ways in which we could live on this Earth without doing it quite so much damage.

Discovering towns like Prospect New Town, seeing the tiny house movement gain momentum, and traveling to parts of the world where living smaller isn't a revolution, but the way it's always been, has really brought home how doable this is, and how deeply I believe in paring down to what we need in order to live the lives we want.

Colorful houses in Prospect Newtown

Which brings me to what I DO want in my life:

1. To have genuine interest in the field in which I work
2. To travel
3. To move to someplace without snowy winters
4. To spend as much time as possible outdoors

That's it. Linnea's recipe for sheer and utter happiness. Time spent outside in above freezing temperatures, and enough spare cash to hop the pond once in a while. Making more than enough money to get by is never something I've desired, and that's good, seeing as my industry (hospitality) is not one in which you're prone to doing that.

Almost every tiny houser I've read or seen interviewed at some point says something along the lines of, "when I started living tiny, my life got so much bigger." Instead of being weighed down by the minutia and constant, nagging responsibilities of working a 70 hour job to pay for a 3.000 SF house, a person who has pared down to 100, or 200, or even 1000 square feet, has significantly cut the financial, temporal, and emotional cost of their home. And when you live differently, you can work differently. Many tiny housers live small so they can keep or switch to the career they want rather than the one they previously needed. Building a tiny home frees me to take risks with where I work and where I live.

So last summer I decided to take the plunge. I've sketched up endless plans, done a ton of research, signed up for a workshop, and today, I've done it-

Tumbleweed Trailers

In less than two months, the very foundation of my future home will be winging it's way to me! Actually, winging it's way to Pennsylvania, and I'll take it from there.

She's a beaut, 20 feet long, with a full porch, and already flashed and insulation-ready. I am beyond excited, and just a dash nervous. I'm making up for lack of building experience with enthusiasm, research, and, frankly, an innate ability to figure shit out. So while lord only knows what this summer will hold in terms of learning curves, unforeseen obstacles, and inevitable weather issues, I'm completely determined, and ready to work my butt off.

I plan to archive the whole process on here, as well as more thoughts on tiny houses, and downsized living in general, as well as post the odd recipe when I can.

In love with this company's aesthetic

This is the biggest and most expensive project I've undertaken, and it will be crazy, and like all good adventures, difficult.
I cannot wait. And, who knows, by this time next year I could be building that espresso machine.

Happy Sunday!

Fried Oatmeal

Oh, man. This is it. This is the breakfast to end all breakfasts. 

I adore both making and eating breakfast food, especially the kind that is awful for you, like waffles drenched with cream and syrup, and french toast stuffed to the gills with juuust about anything.

...In essence, a massive food coma waiting to happen. It's an impossible way to start a day. But I have found a solution so simple and seemingly sinful, that I'm going to have to add another meal to my day in order to cram even more oatmeal into my diet.

Behold - Fried Oatmeal!

This little lovely has the decadence of a plate of french toast with all the nutrition of a filling bowl of oatmeal! All you have to do is take five minutes to throw it together before bed, and it's a breeze to cook it up in the morning!

Makes 4 Servings
- 3 cups oatmeal
- 2 tsp cinnamon
- 3.5 cups water
- topping (fruit, agave nectar, maple syrup, honey, jam, chocolate, etc!)

The night before:
In a medium bowl, mix the cinnamon into the oatmeal, then add the water, give it a good stir, and microwave for three to five minutes. You want it to be much thicker and firmer than regular oatmeal, so that it holds together, like a dough. Spread evenly in a loaf pan, cover, and refrigerate overnight.

The morning of:
Divide into eight slices, and melt a tbsp or so of Earth Balance in a large skillet or griddle over medium high heat. You can also use cooking spray if you're looking to eat less fat. Cook each slice til heated through and browned, about 6 minutes for each side.

Truth time? When I'm in a super rush I microwave the slices first, and cook them just long enough to brown the sides a little.

Pile high with fruit and a drizzle of maple syrup, or whatever floats your boat!

Happy breakfasting!

Spring Getaway

Last weekend, the fella and I went to Boston to spend Easter with his family and visit a childhood friend of mine. Those of you stuck in the same polar vortex of prolonged wintery hell as us will empathize with the hefty portions of cabin fever we've both built up this year. It's pretty bad. So we decided to muscle through the cold and celebrate this Someday Spring by taking a wee trip to Newport, Rhode Island.

It was EXACTLY what my mind, body, and soul needed. Sunlight. The sound of waves. The smell of salt. Pure magic.

Winter may be doing it's damnedest to keep us in an iron grip, but slowly and surely we're thawing out. There's nothing like some strong sunlight after deep cold, and it started to really bring me back to myself.

On our way back up to Boston we stopped outside Providence at a pretty awesome vegetarian place, Garden Grille. Funky decor, delicious food sourced from local farms, and a vegan Brandy Alexander? Yes, please.

We started with some root vegetable cakes, which were to DIE for. Carrots, parsnips, sweet potatoes, corn meal, and a little bit of heaven. Then I got seriously killer butternut squash and black bean quesadillas:

...and the fella had an open-faced BBQ seitan sandwich that, to be honest, left a bit to be desired, but has inspired me to start making barbecue sauce ASAP.

After a coffee and quite tasty raspberry whoopie pie at Wildflour bakery next door, we headed back to Boston to meet with good friends of mine. Good because I've known one of them since I was eight, and extra good because they took us to Trina's Starlite Lounge.

Oh. My. This picture doesn't do it justice to what was A) a veritable feast, and b) AH-mazing.

The meat eaters among us went with Starlite dogs (a must for first-timers and veterans alike, I'm told) and the dog of the day, which was topped with caesar salad. I had undoubtedly the best tofu pup of my life, and did cheat with a couple bites of non-vegan cornbread and parmesan tater tots that transcend the category, and are more accurately described as somewhere in between the perfect tater tot and a heavenly potato hush puppie.

All in all, I couldn't have wished for a better weekend. I'm not remotely religious, so an Easter sunday celebrated, not within the stifling confines of a liturgy, but at home, with the fella's lovely family and some seriously good food, completely relaxed and renewed me. I can almost believe it's Spring!

Happy Thursday!

The Basics: Croutons

Almost nothing in this worlds beats the perfection of a good crouton. A crusty, peppery outside and a chewy middle is simply the ideal companion to soups and salads. And let's not kid ourselves, I'm not above a handful as a snack.

Homemade croutons beat the boxed version by far, and are an important (and beyond simple!) staple to know how to whip up!

Classic Croutons
- Bread, cubed (Some swear by Italian, some by baguettes, and there's a heated debate over whether or not the bread needs to be a bit stale. Frankly, I'm not picky. I think any and all bread makes a tasty crouton.)
- olive oil
- couple of cloves garlic, minced
- salt and pepper

Heat a pan medium high heat, and coat the bottom with olive oil. Add the garlic and let heat up. Once it starts to sizzle, add the cubed bread, turning or tossing to coat, and adding more oil as needed. You're gonna use a lot of olive oil. Don't think too much about it. Sprinkle salt and pepper, and saute the bread until all sides are browned and crunchy. Sample to see if they're as crunchy as you want, and enjoy! If you have any leftover (not a common problem in my house), store in a sealed container once completely cooled. They'll last for a couple of days at room temperature.

Happy crunching!

Presque Printémps

You may not believe it, but it's somehow April. It was 27 degrees when I got out of bed this morning, and yet they tell me we're nearly two weeks into spring.

It's pretty dismal, I'm not gonna lie. While the sun makes a lovely change, it's still downright frigid outside, and I'm too tired to even have cabin fever anymore. 

When my winter (excuse me, SPRING) blues have me this low, I have two coping mechanisms, and they're both essentially rooted in denial. This week I have relied on both of them:

Method One: Test Out All Your Camping Gear Indoors Like a Madwoman

...Done and done. It took a fair amount of self control not to hide in one and wait 'til May.

Method Two: Go About Outdoor Activities As If It's Not F**king Freezing

Also done. And while a GREAT deal chillier than method one, it was a lot more effective. I walked part of The Long Path starting south from the Paint Mine at Thacher, and it was icy, and in places there were still several feet of snow, but, dammit, I was outdoors and away from everything, and nothing beats that.

In a few places there was even mud, and that was a blessed sight. So maybe, JUST MAYBE, things are beginning to thaw.

I hope your day is full of something as satisfying as hot chili on a cold and snowy trail!

Happy Wednesday : )