Hanging on the wall directly across from my desk in the Belle Writer’s Studio is a framed copy of my first published article.
The essay, which was published in my hometown paper, The Kansas City Star, is about my childhood and what a great place my neighborhood was for growing up.
In my childhood, the kids on my block rode bicycles, played spy games in the alley, played unorganized sports such as Red Rover, Hide-n-Seek and baseball games in which we were in control of enforcing the rules.
The only two admonishments from my mother was 1). Do not leave our block without asking. 2). Either listen for her to step out onto the porch and call me home for dinner, or come back to the yard by the time the street light came on.
We were allowed to walk up to the store — an early century brick building that was once the township’s general store – for penny candy and a .25 cent (glass) bottle of pop. We jumped in mud puddles in the rain and had unsupervised snowball fights in the snow.
It was a time when kids were allowed to be kids, we were given more responsibility if we learned to follow the rules, which taught us about independence. We learned to use our imagination and develop social skills with our friends. We solved problems amongst ourselves.
It’s those memories that make me so sad every time I read a story such as the one about the parents in suburban D.C. who are being put under the microscope for allowing their two children, ages 6 & 10 to (GASP!) walk to a park by themselves and play.
Twice, these parents have been put under investigation by Child Protective Services. At least once, the children were held for hours before their parents were even notified. The children sat alone in a police station without even being offered anything to eat at dinner time.
BUT, you say, children are at risk, anything could happen to them out there, right?
Actually, according to statistics on crime and childhood accidents, there has never been a safer time to be a child. Risks exists, just as they do throughout life.
But consider this: There is only a 1 in 1.5 million chance of your child being abducted. That is less than the risk of being stuck by lightning, which is about 1 in 500,000!
Apparently, just as it has with the risk of a pit bull bite, the media has created a mass hysteria that there is a boogey man behind every streetlight.
What does this have to do with tiny/small house living?
Sunday afternoons around Our Little House are all about the food, baby. When we lived in the city, you could usually find us on Sunday evening gorging at our favorite local Mexican diner.
Since moving to Our Little House, we use Sunday as a day of R&R. We don’t like to go anywhere because Dale has to drive every other day of the week and driving into town even gets exhausting for him.
So, in the winter, we cook up some comfort food.
In the summer, after a typical Sunday morning of boating, it’s all about the grill.
It’s been two years now (I do not know where the time goes) since I went on a mainly plant based (vegan) diet.
When I began writing about the Tiny House Movement for my upcoming book, my editor took exception with the word “movement.”
She thought it sounded like it had some sort of political connotation. The technical definition of a movement is, “a group of people working together to advance their shared political, social, or artistic ideas."
I understood her concerns, but it is a type of social movement to what we think is a better way of life.
I responded to her concerns by telling her it had been labeled a “movement” by the media for so long, that if we didn’t refer it to that in the book, it might confuse people that this is something else other than what articles, books and television shows such as “Tiny House Nation” were talking about.
However, last week, on the Living Large Facebook page, Matt also took exception to the term movement, saying that after he’s followed it for 5 years, he feels “the term is now outdated and makes it sound hairy fairy and not a credit to making a change to the way we choose to live…”
What do you think, Living Largers? Is it a movement? If not, or you think the term is overused/outdated, what would you call it? Click on "the comment link above the photo (below the headline) to join in on the conversation!
The past few mornings have been chilly, not cold enough to warrant our wood stove and definitely not cold enough to warrant turning on our expensive electric heater.
My mom came from a generation where the focal point of the home was the kitchen. If she wasn’t watching television (which she rarely did) or not creating a piece of art or working in her gardens, she was sitting in the kitchen, usually with a cigarette and a cup of coffee.
On mornings such as the one we’ve been having, she would say, “I’m turning on the oven for a bit, just to take the chill off.”
In a small home where the kitchen is oftentimes part of the living area, a few minutes with an open oven door on a chilly morning is all I need.
I turned on the oven yesterday morning just to take the chill off and though I don’t smoke, I sat and enjoyed my coffee, silently thanking my mom for the warmth on a chilly morning.