the tiny house is in its heyday –

the tiny house is in its heyday. folks on this island are considering it for a model of cohousing that would at once allow individuality, independence in residence combined with collective gathering at a central building, effectively sharing the work, the costs, the financial exposure that make home ownership so difficult in this era. ageing in place, affordable housing, the cost of living, the loneliness epidemic, the challenges to live sustainably, mounting ecological concerns, and just plain having too much stuff, too much house, too much responsibility; these are the ills that this model could remedy. those in charge of our official community plan on salt spring, like on other islands, are currently weighing the implications of the tiny house. we are fascinated to see what comes next.

the tiny house at appleturnover farm, on the other hand, is not so much a house as a glorified tent, if a tent that has all sorts of gaps between its charming boards that let life right in. particularly bug-life, but don’t worry, a mosquito net is in the post as we speak. nevertheless, this little old building has a decent roof sheltering its rustic beauty, and for the warmest months, it ought to make a gorgeously dreamy cabin. just the thing to escape to, for living with the sort of simplicity that, much like the tiny house community cohousing project, is something so many of us are pining for.

there are just a couple of plates, a bowl, a spoon, a fork, a glass, a sharp knife and cutting board, and a wonky mug i once threw on a wheel, in sussex. the kettle is worthy, as are the tea pot and the french press. there’s a cooler for the simplest of easy foods, if one is not already full from farm stands and food trucks; there’s nought to cook on, so simplicity reigns.

the invitation from the east sun streaming in is to have coffee with the dutch door open as you scribble, or draw, or read, or do nothing whatever while you watch the geese and chickens visit the water tub below the fig-wisteria-grape tangle that is that patch of garden.

the invitation from the west sun streaming in at golden hour is to emerge through that other dutch door with a cocktail, if you move at my speed, to watch the ducks on the pond (and i really do mean *on * it. they are literally walking on water, because my life has been so full these past few challenging years, i have not cleaned out the pond. they can simply tread on the build up of leaves. oh, well. i shall get to it eventually.)

there is a tiny rocking chair that suits the scale. please, if you can, be short, or duck well. once a young man of 6’2” stayed in this cabin, and he was rather too tall for comfort, with rafters in his hair. before you arrive, i vow to hang the little lights along the porch, because even the smallest people are apt to bump their heads on the overhang whilst transfixed by the ducks in the pond.

and you will definitely want lighting in the starry small hours to cross the paving stones, nip down the tiny path and around a fenced corner to the loo. the loo, too, is in its bare-essentials state: a camping seat and lid over a humble bucket, with wood shavings to cover, and loo roll lidded in case of rain. what more does one need, really?

if you do come to stay on a solo escape to farm life, please let me know that you are a reader. let me know, too, if you are an artist, or a writer, or otherwise wanting some spaciousness in your life and your mind to contemplate things for a while, as i am cultivating an idea about hosting residencies at the farm, in the studio. more about that soon.

for now, here is the tiny house in all its renewed glory. friends helped. they know my gratitude is deep. i’d love to know what you think. i do believe the little place has secretly longed to live like this, with people visiting it, fresh from the lake or weary from the market, in its gentle, summer-focused way. i love to picture you here, sleeping so well, if awoken briefly by the rooster, or by the clamouring of the mama hen and her chicks to go out to get the apples that have fallen in the night; then left to your peace and the inspiration that wells up, i have found, here at appleturnover.

do come visit before autumn arrives in earnest ♡