Tour My Tiny
My Tiny House, Pt 3.1
As promised, here is the video tour of my wee tiny conducted by my builder, Lou Pereyra, just before making its 535-mile overland journey down to Grass Valley.
He shot this promotional video up in Silverton, Oregon, at the Tiny Mountain Houses’ build site. Lou staged it with his own materials, so it looks a bit different in the video than it does now. He also added (and then took away) certain features he wanted to highlight, such as the breakfast bar under the two huge windows and the fireplace / TV along the back wall.
To recap my previous post, three main principles guided my decisions: prioritizing light, prioritizing warmth, and removing barriers to good nutrition. Here, you’ll see how it all played out.
Let’s get into the video. Welcome to my new home!
[I suggest you open the video in a different tab, or even on a different screen to go back and forth between Lou’s video and my commentary]
0:48 — Lou mentions that his builds usually come with an exterior metal accent wall, but that I chose not to have one. At the time, I was trying to be in compliance with the THOW (Tiny House on Wheels) guidelines recently approved by Nevada County, California. Here, as everywhere, regulations are evolving rapidly as advocacy groups push for a range of housing solutions both locally and nationwide. I committed to following the law as much as I could, adding extra D-rings for side-to-side stability, and eliminating the metal siding. My initial plan had the house in Inverness Green, the metal accent in Terra Cotta, and the trim in a Khaki-esque color whose name I’ve forgotten. I loved the palette, so when I dropped the accent wall, I kept the Terra Cotta for that color pop.
Why does Nevada County (and others — they developed their guidelines from others counties that have broken the path before them) disallow metal siding on THOWs? My best guess is that they discouraging converted school buses (aka Schoolies), shipping containers, and camper vans without saying so explicitly. Could I have nudged at the edge by having a metal accent wall? Probably. But I wasn’t feeling especially risky that month.
This is the one and only decision I would make differently if I could go back in time.
2:17 — Fun Fact. When Lou enters the house with “Hey, Nick!,” he is talking to nephew Nick, the videographer. Son Nick (for whom the house was named) also works for the company.
2:38 — I’m not sure how I just knew that 28’ would be my sweet spot, but the 26’ Mt. Bachelor seemed too small, and the 30’ Mt. Rainier seemed too big.
Kitchen layout was the deciding factor in going with the Nickolaus Ridge model rather than the other 28-footer, Grand Teton. Because my Priority #1 was light, light, more light, and still more light, and I didn’t yet know where my tiny would be located, I wanted to make sure as much light as possible was coming in from all the directions. Nicklolaus Ridge has a galley kitchen that runs both sides, while the Grand Teton kitchen spans a single side. In my brain (perhaps not so much in reality, to be honest), the Grand Teton was better suited for a front-facing landscape, with more privacy (and fewer windows) to the rear. Nickolaus Ridge, on the other hand, brought light pouring in on both sides, maximizing my chances for that golden elixir.
3:15 — Priority #3, the tiny dishwasher, started a domino trail of consequences. I had asked Lou for the 26’ Nickolaus Ridge, but with two extra feet in the kitchen for counters and a dishwasher (because I love to cook but soon weary of cleaning). Sounds simple, right? Of course it’s not so easy as that! Extending out by two feet would necessitate a different stair configuration; their semi-spiral and ribbon staircases wouldn’t fit, and I didn’t want a storage staircase (because of Priority #1 — All the Light). He did have a new design for a “floating staircase” he was eager to try if I was game, though.
Mind you, this was our very first conversation on the showroom floor of the Roseville Tiny House Expo. He knew without even looking that adding the dishwasher would require a different approach for the stairs, and possibly also the shelving. These both turned out to be true, so when he suggested open shelving made from the same butcher block used throughout the build, I enthusiastically agreed. I can’t take credit for the idea, though.
3:40 — “Hey, wait! I thought you said you liked to cook?!” I do, I do, but over the years I’ve discovered I only ever use two burners. I might have the rice cooker going, or the crockpot, but I’ve never needed more than two burners. At the same time, I also need more chopping and prepping space. Fewer burners = more counter. Having lived with my two little burners for nearly a month now, I have zero regrets. It’s perfect.
Ditto on the fridge, coming up at 4:32. Priority #3 was eliminating barriers to good nutrition, and I realized that a huge refrigerator is actually more of a hindrance than a help. I’ve never actually had a smaller fridge, always opting for the largest one possible, with ample space for old jars and science projects and leftovers I’ll never get around to eating. They were air conditioned storage units for ingredients I had thought were good ideas and later abandoned. One month in, this refrigerator is exactly the right size for me and the way I live now.
3:52 — Lou called out the drawer and cabinet knobs! I started collecting them in Sicily, on an all-girl three-generation trip with my mother and daughter. Relatively inexpensive and small, they fit easily in my suitcase. Over time, I acquired more from Greece, Turkey, and other travels. Each one brings me a sense of a place loved and left.
5:25 — About those super duper tall cabinets: see the ladder to the loft? It also helps me reach the tippy top cabinet with ease when I tip it to the lower cabinet and brace the bottom by the dishwasher. I did need to make felted “socks” to slide over the hardware, keeping the alabaster cabinets unmarked.
5:45 — Yes, we have a 5’ loft! This was not in the original plan at all. On my first visit to Silverton, while we were still in the planning stage, Lou showed me a house-in-progress that had dropped the primary sleeping loft by a good 5 inches or so. As we walked through the space beneath (the kitchen and living room), Lou asked if I felt crowded by the lower ceiling. I did not. Not even a little bit.
Any “The Real Truth About Tiny House Living” pieces I’ve read or watched over the years have mentioned that loft sleeping, while fun at first, gets old and awkward pretty fast. Just making the bed can become a back-breaking chore. To a person, they recommend getting as much height in your sleeping loft as you can. This made sense to me, so when Lou suggested lowering the loft in my house, I was all-in.
Remember those open shelves in the kitchen? On both sides? With the lower loft height, standard cabinetry would no longer fit and our best option was the open butcher blocks. I call that a win-win, because I adore the look and the functionality.
6:36 — Not only did we lower the loft, but we also extended it lengthwise. Lou mentions the bookcase, which I requested as 1/3 facing the open space, 2/3 facing the bedroom. What he doesn’t mention is that their typical bookcase has two shelves, but the added height made room for three. Win-win-win.
6:50 — This floating staircase is truly a work of art, a show of master craftsmanship. So strong and sturdy, yet all the light (Priority #1) shines through. Even in the middle of the night with no lights on, I feel 100% comfortable using it.
7:26 — Oh, that ceiling. Oh, my heart. Lou’s builds are clean, with standard white Shaker-style cabinets, white walls, white backsplash, white ceilings, everything very clean and alabaster. A color freak, I’m not keen on quite so much white (or black or grey), so I wanted to keep it clean while adding warmth. Witness the redwood-stained floor, the sand pebble countertop, the light brown backsplash. But the pine tongue-and-groove ceiling was — in my soul — the ultimate way to add warmth within the aesthetic. I wanted those ceilings and that fan so much it ached, but I couldn’t find a way to fit it into the budget. With some trial-and-error and a bit of back-and-forth, Lou and his team found a way to make it work. I am so very grateful they did.
The first time I saw the full ceiling in the house during construction, maybe it was my second trip up there, I cried actual tears. That’s how much I love this ceiling and all it represents. I look to the heavens and I see that tongue-and-groove ceiling made with such care and consideration.
8:30 — Due to some magic of engineering, extending the kitchen counters somehow also increased the size of this “Flex” room. A good thing, too, since my bookcases just barely fit. Keen eyes will notice that this room defies Priority #1 (All the Light), by having a windowless back wall. Lou has placed a TV and fireplace (very cute!), but I needed this wall available for a large lithograph I wasn’t willing to part with. So, as he explains, I kept one window the standard size, but made up some of the difference with a larger window on the other side. Even loaded with books, the room still feels cozy with just enough light.
9:38 — Priority #2 (Please Help Me Stay Warm) showcase moment. Yes! I sprung for heated floors from end to end. In a tiny house, that’s actually not a lot of square footage, and I knew it would make an enormous difference in my quality of life. For the first time in a decade, I’m not dreading winter.
10:28 — Thing One I didn’t think I needed but my mother (thankfully) talked me into: this tiny combo washer/dryer. Popular in Europe and now making their way to the U.S., this baby is both size and energy efficient. That said, during the summer you’ll find my laundry air-drying outside on a clothesline rather than using electricity inside.
Thing Two is the ductless heater / air conditioner. Priority #2 (Never Enough Heat) focused my attention on the heated floors and a different energy-efficient heater placed elsewhere in the house. Cooling the space never occurred to me. My mother insisted on A/C, and I’m glad she did. This part of Grass Valley reaches over 100 degrees with some regularity in the hottest months of the summer, and Mother knows best. Thanks, Mom.
10:35 — Wait, a composting toilet? In this otherwise elegant house? Yes. Eleven months ago, I had no idea where I would be able to place my tiny house, and I hoped that not requiring a sewage line would expand my options. I’ll save the details for a later post, but as a lifelong backpacker and a traveler comfortable in so-called developing countries, I do find it odd and wasteful to excrete into such a limited resource as perfectly clean water. The composting toilet suits my ethos, it fits who and how I want to be in the world.
10:50 — For the record, I did not request that the medicine cabinet be mounted lower than usual; rather, the workers who had met me (Joey, Tony [also known as Juan-of-a-Kind], Mario, Gio) thought of this on their own. It’s the epitome of thoughtfulness, a gesture that touched me to the core.
11:05 — This bathtub, along with the heated floors, went a long way toward fulfilling Priority #2 (I’ll Never Go Cold Again). You can just barely make out the angled end, perfect for reclining into very warm water. Typically, Lou and his team opt for 1-piece inserts to prevent leaking, but an angled bathtub was not available in such a kit. So, in Lou’s words, they caulked the heck out of this 4-piecer, and made it work. I had also requested a handheld shower, leaving the specific choice up to Lou. Well, he set me up with the Mercedes of shower heads (multiple settings and a special notch for aromatherapy pods — also provided).
12:30 — Nights in that loft, surrounded by windows on three sides, feel like sleeping at the top of a lighthouse. The sun and moon rise over my head and set at my feet, while a soft summer breeze cools the space. Delicious.
14:35 — Yes, I will be adding coat hooks to the entry cupboard just as he suggests, but I’m waiting to see what winter brings.
15:00 — My Fiber Loft! Whereas Lou set it up as a reading space (with not one but two recliners and a bottle of wine!), I’ve turned it into a functioning fiber workshop for my knitting, weaving, and felting. Three bookcases and four medium-sized tubs provide yarn and tool storage, leaving more than enough floor space to work on my creations happily ever after. Pics will no doubt follow in later posts.
From here til the end, Lou recaps the build, emphasizes some highlights, and then some of Nephew Nick’s B-roll gives a final visual-only tour of the space. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed the process that got us here.
My wish for you: that you all love where you live as much I treasure where I am now. I’m eager to go wherever this evolving cronehood takes me next, and I thank you, dear readers, for joining me on the journey.