Tiny revolutionOur first season of snow birding is but hours from being complete. And while I could spend much time talking about the lessons learned here (which I will certainly do as the euphoria wears off and I can digest my personal growth since January) I prefer to think about what life will be like returning to the tiny house. In some sense it will be The First Night…all over again! I have to laugh and say that I hope it is raining that first night back so I can fall in love with the sound of raindrops on the metal roof and the sight of streams cascading down the skylight. But more likely than not it will be more about putting things back, dusting out some cobwebs, getting the temperature right, making sure the sawdust for the compost toilet is fluffed and ready for use again, turning the water back on, etc. In fact, within hours it will probably feel like we were never gone. The next morning morning I may even feel like it was all a dream.

I remember our first – First Night in the tiny house. I laid there half asleep but keenly awake as if just a child on Christmas Eve. I half expected an apparition of Dee Williams or Logan Smith to appear before me whispering out in shaky voice, “I told you you could. You are here now. You live in a tiny house. Is it what you thought it would be? WOOOOOoooooooooooooo-WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Nothing of the sort though. I slept well and awakened the next morning beside my wife and daughter in a house that our hands along with those of dear friends and family had constructed. At that point we weren’t strapped down or sitting on piers so the slightest movement at one side would cause the other to rock a little. It was pretty surreal yet pretty….normal.

As we approach this second-First Night I think I am a bit wiser and bit more grounded. My thoughts are not really on the novelty of our tiny house but rather on the freedom it has provided us and how a year living in it has given us opportunities we never thought possible and brought us to an avenue of decisions and potential adventures. More than likely my mind will be racing with ideas as I lay there thinking back to our nights in the fifth wheel, enjoying our life in the tiny house, and postulating on the future of our time in our “new to us” travel trailer. What could possibly be better? That is probably when I’ll remember that I left a bar of Kinder Bueno in the storage closet (which – thanks to Mother Nature – probably averaged 34° while we were gone) and a sixer of Highland Oatmeal Porter under the kitchen counter!