My dream tiny house looked like a box of animal crackers before PETA took the circus car off its tracks. It was forty feet long and ten feet wide with an elephant rump sharing the back with the WIDE LOAD sign. I was entirely convinced that the only way I could go tiny would be to go full-out 400 square feet with the 13.5 inch maximum height.
And then I suddenly lost my 1500 square foot storage shed. A judge has ordered that I sell the house, and it has only been halted by the coronovirus.
This is the true test of tiny house living. I really don’t know if I can let go of my stuff, and I really don’t know if it’s worth saving.
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