Everything Seems to Change

Hello again, my friend.

It has been a little minute since last we spoke. Things have been going well for me, I think. I'm falling more into a routine, and it's a new routine. Newness is rough at times.

Having the boys on weekends is a treat. They seems to love it here, and they adore the tiny house. I took them to an arcade in town--because one exists in Tooele--and they had a great time. Perhaps bowling at the same establishment is in our future there. The sad thing about arcades is when you are feeding video game machines for three little boys at the same time, that happy little hour of play costs about as much as a good massage. However, their tender minds were ROCKED when I took them on their very first round of laser tag! Thank goodness for black lights, techno music, and laser pointer guns. I'm sure the experience pretty much changed their lives forever.

There are been some things I've been struggling with, and I think I'm starting to get over these little obstacles as well. And of course it all comes with getting know myself better. But yes, some things:

    1. When I am home, I am HOME! If I walk through my front--and only--door after a full day at work, it's be hard to get me to go out again. Especially for errands. Food can always wait if I don't have enough right now, or if what I do have doesn't really go together to make a meal. That Amazon package I had delivered to a pickup counter in town can wait another day, for I am home. However, now that I'm aware of this, I can work my way around it. Any errands I have to run I can do as I make it into town, before I open my door. We'll see how it goes.

    2. I think my newest exercise endeavor is swimming. Do you remember my stories of being on the swim team for Carbon High? It's been a little minute since I've swum for actual exercise, but I think I found a great spot for that. There is an aquatic center just around the corner from where I live. I took the boys there the other day to play in the water and go down the water slide, and they had a blast. Lap swim is open all the day long, so I figured I'd go for a lap or two whilst I was there. (Don't worry, my sister was also with us, so the kids were still supervised.) What a treat it turned out to be! I don't have goggles right now, and with my long hair I need a swim cap, and the suit I was wearing isn't for lap swim, but it was like riding a bike. I'm sure I'm slow as F right now, but to swim, and to still have good form and relatively okay lung capacity is reassuring to realize. So I think I'll be stopping by the pool three times a week to swim for an hour.

    This brings up another interesting point. A couple years ago I went through a big weight loss phase where I was dieting and running. At the end of it I ran my very first--and only--half marathon. I feel I was in good shape at that time, and then life happened and I put all the weight back on. I've been stuck thinking this whole time in Tooele that running is the way it has to be because it was so successful a couple years ago. I'm open now to trying new things, and I remain hopeful about where this might go. Though I know swimming isn't the greatest way to lose weight, it will do wonders for my low back and won't kill my knees. I think that's a win.

    3. My life is more productive when I live out of a planner. I'm not the guy who requires a detailed to-do list in order to get anything done, but I do better if the big things are written down. I bought a new planner when I moved in to the tiny house as a way to start afresh and such, and then Covid happened and the planner was never opened again because for two weeks there was only one kind of day. I actually was scared to open it again, like something unknown would jump out at me from the pages, or I'd be reminded of something I didn't do. It took courage--yes, friend, COURAGE--to crack open that planner and start writing stuff in it. Important stuff. Stuff I wanna get DONE. So it rests constantly open on my countertop when I'm alone, and it gets put away when the boys are here. I've already found some reassurance in the fact that I have a thing that keeps other things organized, especially when I can't brain well enough to get it all together inside my head right now.

So why the dumpster fire, I hear you ask. Some things, some legal things, are beginning to happen instead of just staying in the future of 2020 as an additional thing to be afraid of. So really, even though the tone of this post is pretty peppy and positive, there is a mess I still haven't dealt with. And the processes to deal with the mess have started. I'll send you word on that in the future.

Warmly,

D.

P.S. Let's play a game, you and I. Sometimes writing blogs can be so one dimensional. As you may know already, I decided to take up playing the recorder back in January because I wanted to learn a new instrument. So how about I record a little something, and we both play Name That Tune.

Some background and thoughts as to why this is hilarious and awesome:

    1. All I have is an iPhone for recording sound.

    2. These songs will be recorded in one take and then left unedited because it's more like performing that way. Also I'm lazy.

    3. These songs will only be the melody.

    4. I am a NOVICE. I have been playing the tenor recorder for six months.

    5. Not all songs are meant to be played on the recorder. But that's not gonna stop me!

This first round is a classic if you had a childhood like mine. Have a listen and a good chuckle. 5 points to anyone who gets it! (If I have shared this song with you before, you may get to sit this round out.) Click the link below and the song file will open in a new window.

Name That Tune, July 19 <--(That is the link!)

Independence Day, and I do mean INDEPENDENT.

Hey friend. I have to say I had the strangest 4th of July weekend I have ever experienced. I'm sure that things were weird all over the country, given Corona and all. But still.

I didn't have to work July 3rd or 4th just because it fit in with my regular schedule. The 3rd was the observed holiday, and I was terrified that businesses would be busting with people trying to do fun things with friends and family, complicated by trying to enforce social distancing. For this reason, the boys and I didn't go exploring Tooele much on Friday. We did discover in a real way that Tooele is still very much on lock-down from the virus. There isn't an outbreak here, but everything has clamped down in a big way as to even being open.

Because it's usually a big weekend for places like ice cream shops, I was hoping some mom-and-pops in town would be open in some way so the public could enjoy their deliciousness. Absolutely not the case. While the mom-and-pop joints were usually open for business at the drive-thru, it seems they all closed Friday and Saturday (some even up until Monday). Even in this weird socially distant setting where dining in still isn't allowed in most food places, I would think that most joints would WANT to open for this weekend because it usually means big business.

Well, I was wrong.

On Saturday we drove up and down Main Street, the main drag of Tooele. American flags decorated everything, lining all the sidewalks and windows. It was a lot to see, but it was still nice to see. The weird part was the obvious absence of people. The street was made to appear accommodating for a crowd, yet no one was outside. No one was on the sidewalks, and we didn't even see many cars driving through town. Everything was empty.

We went to a park during lunch time. The park was nice; it had a good playground set, everything was clean and new-looking, the lawn was green and recently mowed, and everywhere around the playground equipment were picnic tables. I expected those tables to have people in tank tops, coolers filled with soda open, with burgers and hot dogs getting served up. But much like Main Street, everything was empty. My car was the only car in the parking lot, and there was no other soul to speak of at the park.

Maybe the rapture happened the day before, and I missed the memo?

And then the evening came. I expected the day to end on a dud, so when it was nearing bed time, it was with hesitation that I suggested we go watch the fireworks I could hear outside. Honestly, I was surprised there were fireworks at all. But I figured it wouldn't be a good 4th of July without seeing SOMETHING colorful in the sky, even if it was likely going to be lame and disappointing. The boys and I walked to the edge of the trailer park and saw several fireworks light up the sky before the sun was even set yet. One of my neighbors came up to me and told me to find a specific elementary school and watch the fireworks from there because the show was gonna start at 10:00.

I figured, why not? I loaded the kids into the car and drove into town. We didn't park in the right elementary school lot, I'm sure. But it didn't matter. Aerial fireworks exploded all around us starting at 9:45. They flew into the air from easily twenty different locations all over Tooele, and those spots encircled us completely. When some sparks burst in the air, all we had to do was turn around to see more and more of them launch from further down Main street, or behind us in a neighborhood up the mountain, or behind the elementary school, or just over in another neighborhood. Because Tooele is not a big place, all these location couldn't have been more than two miles away from us.

And the fireworks did not relent. For a solid hour they flew and exploded in the sky, filling everything with color and noise. All we had to do was turn around to see yet another show. It was like we were in the parking lot spinning circles for sixty minutes.

And we were ALONE! No one was with us in the parking lot. The boys ran around like feral children because there were no other cars--not even empty cars--to speak of. It was as if everyone spent the entire day in their backyards preparing for their personal light show, and all of them blasted off between 9:45 and 10:45.

I've seen some spectacular firework shows in my day. I’ve done Disneyland. I’ve done the 4th at the Washington Monument. But this by far was the strangest and most surprising of them all. I don't know if my story is typical of Tooele, and from what I've seen on Facebook, fireworks were abundant this year. But how awesome to end such an eerie weekend.

Share with me your news, friend. I'm eager to know how your own Independence Day went.

Warmly,

D

A New Rhythm

Hey there,

I really appreciate the support you've shown me over these past few weeks. The words of encouragement, the shoulder to cry on, all of it. Sometimes I forget that I have friends out there, and you have shown me that even though I have a history of reaching out pretty sparingly, I still have a rock solid support system of good people. So thank you.

Quarantine ended the other day, work starts tomorrow, and that means I have had the past few days to be in the tiny house all by myself. To experience the place as something quiet and private, to paint, to play my block flute, to cook for myself, has been nice to do. I cleaned the place, washed all the bedding, scrubbed the shower and kitchen sink, swept the floor ...

And now what? Because this awesome house takes no time at all to keep clean, I have run out of things to do. I have a whole list of projects I was going to tackle over these past few days, and I did them all. Yes, I could go explore Tooele a bit better than I have. I should probably do that so my boys can still have a positive experience when they're with me. I don't want them to think that every time they're here it has to be like quarantine.

The issue is I haven't had to manage this amount of free time since before I was married. With the kids and a busy house life, there weren't chunks of "me" time that were this big. When I had the house to myself because my wife and kids were away, it was a rarity. It was time to relax and do what I wanted to do. It was time to turn up the TV and watch my favorite sci-fi/fantasy series and be grateful for it. 

I don't remember it ever lasting for days in a row. It was an evening or a whole day at most, it seemed. To have the boys here for 14 days and then to suddenly have them not here at all has been a huge wave to manage. I know that as I start work tomorrow it'll be easier to fall into a rhythm, something I still haven't had a chance to do yet even though I've lived here three weeks. I imagine establishing a good rhythm may take many months, though. This ebb and flow of having the boys here all to myself and so obviously NOT having them. The beautiful--and frustrating--noise of laughter and games juxtaposed with silence. The welcome mess with them here. The frigid sense of order with them not here. The dynamic energy of boys getting into mischief, and the feeling of the world holding its breath while they're gone.

This house fills with life and light when my boys are with me. And when they are elsewhere, it's like they take it all with them, and it is up to me to decide what is left behind. But it's so different from what life has been these past ten years. After I finished my projects and chores, I filled this weekend with incessant waiting. Waiting for the day to end. Waiting for the next day to end. An inability to start things that make me happy because I seem to have all the time in the world to get them done, and that's not what I'm used to.

Again, I start work tomorrow, and I'm sure I will find a new sense of normalcy when this new routine takes hold.

Until then, I'll let you know how it goes.

Again, thank you for your support, my friend.

Warmly,

D

Adventures in Quarantine: Episode 4

The end, my dear reader. I promise this time.

I have no idea how I got here. Not that I'm surprised I made it, but because I can't go back and think through every day of the past two weeks and see that somehow I landed right here, right now. Where did the time go? And I don't ask it in a nostalgic way, like a dad giving away his daughter at her wedding as he, too, hits one of life's mile stones and faces a big life change with his girl taking those first steps as a married woman.

It's not like that. 

All the days have run together in a big way. I lost track of the days a long time ago, and every morning has been a repeat of the previous morning. And each day has been spent in the tiny home, many days not even leaving this beautiful small place. 

It doesn't seem to have been hard on the boys. Thank goodness for technology. They have had the chance to FaceTime their mother every day, and many friends and family have called to say hi and to see how things were going. There have been a million little games to play, and I'm surprised the boys have gotten along almost the entire time. There have been no blowups, very little tears, no injuries, and nothing but sunshine radiating from their faces.

We have done the following:

• Balloon races from one balcony to the next
• Painted
• Made things of clay
• Thrown away things of clay
• Played a million rounds of Uno
• Learned the card game Dos
• Played and scattered pegs all over the tiny house from Battleship
• Many rounds of the Trolls version of Monopoly, Jr.
• Learned Chickapiglet--comes highly recommended if you have littles
• Qwirkle
• War
• All video games available on the Switch
• All games on my phone
• Bouncy balls
• Baked bread
• Baked cookies
• Browned butter
• Burned butter
• Waffles
• Eggs
• All snacks
• Stickers and stamps
• Markers
• Magnets
• Tin whistle lessons
• Dice games
• Mazes and puzzles
• And more and more.

As I said, the kids did not seem to have a hard time. The smallness of this place seemed to be unimportant to them. But let me tell you what, it was hard on me. There was more than just a day or two where I was just over it. This illness wasn't a severe case. And yet, we had to stay home in a big way. We couldn't go to public places. We managed to go for a few drives sometimes and walk around a bit, but I don't know Tooele well enough to know of any cool adventures that other people wouldn't know about so we could be alone. That situation was rough.

Additionally, my kids are so small. They largely depend on me to get things rolling and carry activities along. Every game we played, I had to do with them because it wouldn't get started without my push. And it wouldn't move forward without my constant reminding of when to take turns and how to play some games.

There were many steps along the way where I wanted to throw up my hands and lock the door and let the kids "Lord of the Flies" it. But we still had many more days left of this waiting game. If they were only with me one or two nights, I wouldn't have minded letting things fall apart a little bit. But there was no time for that, I guess.

Additionally, it was so hard for me to have grownup human contact. Yes, people could call, but there wasn't much to say. I didn't have news. I was still at home taking care of little ones, and there was nothing new from day to day to talk about. When my family FaceTime'd me, the conversations were short because they were in quarantine as well, despite the negative results. Conversation was more of a hole, and I just didn't see much of a way around it.

Also, privacy. There were several Marco Polo videos that I made for friends and family, and when I went back and listened to them, it was apparent that the house was like way loud and stuff. It just wasn't what it normally was, y'know? Because the kids weren't as active, bedtime took longer and went to longer times in the night. I had about an hour to myself after their bedtime, and I usually fell asleep on the couch during this time.

And come to think of it, I didn't hear from you much. A phone call would have been nice. Maybe things will be different next quarantine.

I'm grateful for the good people who checked up on us regularly, though. Including many people I haven't seen in a long time. It's nice to reconnect in small ways.

But, it's over. IT'S OVER! Provided we are symptom-free, the health department will be closing our case later today. And I will be returning to work on Sunday.

I don't recommend quarantine. Just don't do it, my reader. Wear a damn mask and wash your damn hands.

Hell damn.

Warmly,

D

Adventures in Quarantine: Episode 3

And hopefully this is the final quarantine episode. I'm over it. Sick and tired, being neither sick nor tired.

I just don't get it, man. You've been reading this story the whole time, and I'm sure you've scratched your head a time or two when thinking about my case of the 'Rona. There is so much around the bigger picture of this whole experience that we just don't understand.

Let me explain a bit further. I never shared with you the larger story of how this virus came to me personally.

A few weeks ago my sister attended a conference. It was a small thing; only eleven attended in person while the rest teleconferenced in. They practiced social distancing with face masks and sitting apart, and it seemed they all followed the rules. This is where my sister caught the bug without knowing it. In fact no one at the conference knew they were sick.

My sister helped me move in to my tiny house about five days later. During that time her symptoms were more like allergies, which she had for weeks already. But it was during this time that she was contagious, and it was during that time that I caught it. She and her husband helped me move my things and the next day I had dinner at her house. Apparently that was enough.

But, there is more to this story. My parents, both of whom are in their 60's, also came up to help. The move was more than one day, and my parents full-on SPENT THE NIGHT at my sister's house. At that time she and my mom--who is severely immune-compromised--painted fingernails and tweezed eyebrows and were very close to each other without wearing face masks. And the following Monday or Tuesday, my sister helped my mother make blankets for my boys, spending more close time with my mom.

My mom tested negative. My dad is likely also negative. Everyone else in Price whom my sister visited has come back with a negative test. My sister, her husband, and I are the only ones with a positive result.

So, friend, here is where things get interesting. (I'm sure I shared this with you before, but I'm restating it.)  Really no fever was present during my contagious phase. I had no fever to speak of ever. My sister's was mild, and only lasted a day or two. The scary part about that is most places check temperatures to make sure you're safe to come inside. For my experience, and for almost all of my sister's case, we would have PASSED this test while contagious. That is frightening to me.

My sister was notified ten days after the fact that two people at her conference were positive, and the only reason why she got tested was because her boss asked her to. Ten days is arguably too much, but no one knew. We also discovered that Coronavirus can present as just about anything, which isn't helpful either. Since the day of the conference, nine of the eleven people to attended in person came down with an active case of Coronavirus, and their cases are wildly different from the Davis cases, though the illness is likely from the same strain. One lady had a fever for nine days that she just couldn't break. Another lady is on oxygen. Another lady brought the illness home to her husband, and he can't even get out of bed now.

Why the difference, my dear reader? Why the difference in severity, symptoms, and duration, especially when all the victims got the very same thing? Why are the Davis's ... resilient, if that is even the right word? Why isn't my mom, who isn't in a way to handle illness, knocking at death's door right now?

Honestly, why?

I don't expect you to have answers to any of this. But I can't help but wonder.

At the end of the day, stay safe. Wash your hands. Wear a mask. To be honest, I think the hand hygiene and mask policy at work is what kept my coworkers safe from me. I really do.

Warmly,

D

Adventures in Quarantine: Episode 2

My dear reader,

I thought that by this time in the progression of the blog that I'd be sharing with you some of the practical new things that I've had to figure out about tiny living. Those things included:

• How to make your bed while you're in it.
• How to make the foot of your bed because no one ever sees the rest.
• How to put on pants while on your bed and on your back.

Instead, I guess I get to share about quarantine. Two of the first three weeks I've been here will be with my boys and dealing with Corona virus. I think I have already spent more days here with my boys than without.

But they have been such troopers. We haven't left the tiny house in three days because my eyes have been too sensitive, or it has been bad weather, or my boys have just not wanted to. Despite the dramatic stories my oldest has shared with his cousins, my boys have not complained. They have found many things to do, and yes, much of that has been video games. But they have been anything but bored.

Their mother came by twice to deliver supplies, and we've had other visitors like that. Their gramma came by with dinner and art supplies, and my friend in town brought by some food as well. We were able to talk with them for a few minutes by calling them and having them on speaker while we waved to them through the closed window. Surprisingly, it wasn't as sad as it sounds. My boys were happy to see everyone, as was I. We'll just have to invite them in next time, I guess.

The guidelines for a person who tested positive with Covid is at least 10 days in isolation with 3 consecutive days symptom-free. So potentially isolation can last much longer. For people who have been exposed to Covid, the isolation protocol is 14 days, and the clock starts over if they show symptoms. This means that even though my quarantine could be over at the end of the weekend, we still get to shelter in place a little longer for my boys.

Honestly, the worst part about this whole show has been the phone calls. I've been on the phone with two different health departments, and they collected names and phone numbers of all the people I was in contact with before I was tested. The questions are pretty intrusive, and it's easy to take offense to all of it because I personally haven't been spoken to like that unless I did something wrong. I know they're just tracking the epidemiology of this, and that requires lots of questions. But I see how it makes some people worry.

I've been grateful for card games, board games, balloon races, art projects, and good food. My boys have even managed to play Hide and Seek here! It's definitely a weird circumstance, but we're doing just fine.

I'm serious about the milkshakes, though, dear reader. Though I'm baking my life away here, there is a serious lack of good ice cream.

Warmly,

D

Adventures in Quarantine: Episode 1

"Hello, is this Devin? I have a test result for you; is now a good time to talk about it?"

I picked up the boys Thursday night and took them to my sister's house for a little outside barbecue. Whenever we go out in public places, the rules are different than if at my sister's house. Firstly, we don't really take our kids to public places unless absolutely necessary anymore. And we always wear face masks. My sister's house is treated like an extension of our own. She only lives with her husband, and they have a pretty mellow life. So even with this whole pandemic thing, visiting her has always been a thing to do.

It was on Saturday afternoon that she got the news that she tested positive for Corona virus. Sunday, her husband did. Today is the day I got my news.

"So what about my kids?" I asked the nurse from the Health Department who was on the phone. "I understand I'm going to miss at least two weeks of work, but what about my kids?"

"If it's possible, they should stay with you," she basically said. "They could take the illness home to their mother, even if they are asymptomatic now."

This is how it begins, my dear reader. I have lived here one week, and now not only do I have to shelter in place, but so do my three boys.

For at least 14 days.

Throughout a couple conversations with my wife, we decided it really was the best thing to have the boys with me, so long as I am well enough to take care of them (and the Health Department agreed). You see, there is always a chance with Corona virus that the case will not be severe enough to land you in the hospital. Most cases don't make it to the hospital. However, there is a very good chance that I'm about to get very sick over the next few days. If it gets bad enough that the boys can no longer stay with me, of course their mother will come get them and we'll deal with whatever that brings. But until then, it is my boys and me living in the tiny house.

And we're gonna live THE CRAP out of this tiny house. Things are gonna get really creative real fast, and we are going to stick to a routine throughout this isolation otherwise COVID-19 won't be the worst of our problems! The days are going to be filled with art, tin whistle lessons, helping with cooking/cleaning/laundry, and the boys all know they will need to do their part. And I trust they will. One day down, and I think we did fine with it.

I appreciate the help from their mother, though. She ran to the grocery store and bought a haul of food--I had purchased precisely enough to last until Monday night--and she brought art supplies and games and clothes. She unloaded the groceries in front of the house then climbed back into her car while I brought them in. While I was putting everything away indoors she assembled our outside steps that were recently delivered. The boys talked to her and smiled at her through a closed window, and neither she nor I permitted them to go outside while she was visiting because of the risk of exposure.

As of right now COVID is starting out pretty manageable for me. I've discovered through speaking on the phone with the doctor that the telling symptoms are becoming more vague as the virus takes on new faces. It seems it can almost present as anything now. For me it's light-headedness with a bit of vertigo, and it became a bit of a headache tonight. I don't have much of a cough, and I don't have a fever to speak of. If this is all it becomes--and I pray it is--I'll be able to handle it and the boys. With the horror stories of the folks in the hospital mixed with the rumors of asymptomatic cases, I really don't know what to expect as this infection runs its course. But the best news of all is the boys appear to be completely healthy, and that is what matters the very most.

So my friend, chin up is what I keep telling myself. I'll let you know if there is reason to be worried for me. When this whole circus is over, and I manage to quarantine in my tiny house WITH my boys, I think you and I should go for milkshakes. Good ones. How does that sound?

Warmly--but not feverishly,

D

All Moved In

Hello again, my friend. I know it has been a little minute since I last said I’d keep in touch. But a lot has happened between now and then.

Many things. I have relocated my life to live in a trailer park in Tooele. And I have officially landed in a tiny home!

The weekend of setting things up was so busy to say the very least. When moving in to a traditional home, it seems there is always that space where you can put all the boxes and gradually move the contents to where they need to go before throwing away the boxes. In a tiny house, that space doesn’t exist. It seems I just moved a big pile of clutter all around my house the entire weekend until everything gradually fell into place. It was kinda like working a sieve. And I’m not gonna lie, Friday night the tiny home and I got in a fight.

This space is so fascinating to me. Playing the flute is REALLY LOUD, and the laundry machine shakes the whole place when it’s on the spin cycle. I have different appliances that may or may not have been installed right (like the convection fan in my oven that doesn’t seem to move, or the porch light that turns on most of the time). And yet, despite—or maybe because of—all the fun nuances of this place, it is wonderful to be here.

And my boys were with me that first weekend. They were excited by the newness of the place, and it was like even the kitchen sink was a new gadget to tinker with. They slept on their floor beds all throughout the nights, even despite the tropical storm that came whipping through, and the very loud train that blasts its presence as loudly as possible when it passes by the railroad crossing just outside the trailer court. It happens several times a day. Is this annoying? Surprisingly not. My previous residence was in Syracuse where we were near Hill Air Force Base. The jets were so loud you couldn’t talk over them. So it seems I’ve just traded one overpowering noise for a different one.

However, now is the second weekend, and it’s already starting differently. We arrived at the tiny house in time to have a bath and watch an episode of America’s Funniest Home Videos before climbing up to the boys’ loft to go to bed. And I received a certain awakening.

You see, my dear reader, my boys are not hysterical children when it comes to showing emotions. I’m looking forward to you meeting them some day. They are capable of crying, but they don’t pitch fits and throw tantrums. So when all three of them wanted to be with their mother instead of me, and they said it as clearly as I’m telling you now, I was not able to explain away the hard emotions due to “being too tired,” or “having a busy day.” I have no doubt they were grateful to see me and spend the weekend with me, but their entire support system has changed. These children are used to having two parents, and there was a great sense of loss to have just me. I felt it too.

This happened, but a very different night just earlier this week also happened, and I mention it right after this sad night on purpose. I was doing dishes alone—it was a week day so the boys weren’t here—and suddenly all the colors in the house softened to gray and pink. I looked around and realized the sun was setting behind the Stansbury mountains, and the light was shining through my three high windows and splashing on the far wall of my loft. So I did what any sane person would do. I grabbed my bag of peanut butter M&M’s and climbed the stairs to my loft and sat on the top step. I had a perfect view! My tiny house happens to be taller than all the dwellings around me by about 10 feet. I was able to see completely unobstructed the golds and oranges, purples and grays, and all the other colors of sunlight as that big ball of fire sank out of sight. It was beautiful, my friend. And that top step quickly became the best seat in the house.

I could also see the trailer park.

So I had one of those moments. Y’know, those moments during a completely normal event in a normal circumstance where you step back and decide to have the universe teach you something? For me, it is so easy to force a little positive thinking and say, “Ignore the trailer park and see the sunset.” It’s also easy to let my pessimism get the best of me and say “Do you see all these run-down trailers? Nothing can be beautiful if these are in the picture.” WAY judge-y, I know. And that’s not fair.

The thing is, the sunset was happening and the trailer park was a part of that. I was in my tiny house at that moment. It was unfair and unrealistic to consider parts of the scenery and ignore the others. It was all ugly, or it was all beautiful. If I was ready for it and open to it, I had a chance to come up with a new definition of what was beautiful.

As my children discovered during their sad moment away from their mother, sometimes it is best to take a breath and get some rest so the bad things in life can lose their badness and I can see them through a healthier perspective.

I hope you see what I mean.

Warmly,

D

Arriving at That Next Place

My dear reader,

Even though I don't know who you are, I'm choosing to word this as if we are close friends. I feel you and I are individuals who have known each other for a long time, and you're interested to hear my ideas and my news. I feel you care very deeply about me, and I you. And it's for this reason that I am going to write these blog posts in the form of letters. Letters to you, not announcements to the world at large.

While I would like to inform you about the life storm I've been stumbling through, I don't feel that information applies to this blog. I'd love to complain, point fingers, and scream about life in general. But another more important part of me wants to look ahead and move forward. This is about moving forward, my friend. Please remind me of that if I digress.

To move into a phase of life I never experienced before is scary and exciting all at the same time. I've never been divorced, and I'm not close with many people who are divorced. I don't know all the rules, if there truly are rules. To be thrown--and I do feel that I have been thrown--into a world where I am kind of the only member of my team has had me off balance at times. What am I to do, I have often wondered. How do I still manage to be a good dad and a good example to my boys? It's questions like these and more that have been swirling in my head as I have been preparing to pursue a future that is different from what I ever dreamed. To step out of Life As I Know It and into that ... next place.

Here we go.

THAT NEXT PLACE

You know me. And you know that I have unusual interests. So it shouldn't surprise you that I've chosen to pare down my life and move in to a tiny home on wheels. Feel free to laugh at this if you want to. I don't mind. I've done enough laughing about it too. It's both awesome and absurd, an exciting adventure and a depressing destination. I've been back and forth many times about it, and it holds true to all of it.

I don't live in this house yet, but I've actually been entertaining the idea of going tiny for a while, off and on. The shows on Netflix are fun to entertain, and reading the books about this lifestyle is like reading story books about magic, quests, and adventures. The day to move in is likely a week away if plans hold together this time and there are no more hiccups.

TO MAKE A TINY HOUSE A TINY HOME

How does this happen? It has required me to approach many paradigms from a different angle to arrive a new idea that works. It's been challenging. Here are some lies I've been telling myself, and I'm sure you can relate. These have all been getting in the way of forward thinking.

1. Things make me happy.

2. My house represents my life success and personal importance.

3. Space indoors is required for me to be happy.

4. Space indoors is required for my children to be happy.

5. A house without a foundation is not fit to be a home for my family.

6. I am a guy in financial ruin, about to be divorced, living in a trailer park, and that is bad.

And there are plenty more false beliefs to throw into that bucket. None of them inspire the idea of Home to me.

As I've been mulling it over, there are very few things required of a home. Some may say a home is a warm place on cold days, a cool place on warm days, a place to eat, a place to sleep, and a place to keep clean. I agree with this, but you know me. I require at least a few things more.

Firstly, I needed a place that can support my hobbies. This means a place to store and use my paints and brushes, a place to put my block flute, and a place to bake bread. All of this takes up about four square feet. And if I have 255 square feet--455 if you count the lofts as additional floor space--then I certainly have enough room to bring my hobbies along with me. If I were into biking, I'm sure there would be a place to put a bike. I think that mostly it's about priorities.

I needed a place to put my super awesome bed, and I have that. I also have a fancy platform to put my bed on that raises and lowers my head and feet, and I've found there isn't enough room for that in the tiny home. Even if I took the legs off it, it would take up six inches of vertical space. When you only have 46 inches of vertical space to work with in the loft, every bit counts. So the platform is staying behind. I also have a mini bookshelf I made with my dad years ago that will fit nicely in the loft.

So what about my boys? It's challenging to meet their needs when they are so young and largely unable to voice all their needs. I wanted them to have their own space. I also wanted them to have room for about half their clothes so they wouldn't have to pack a bag when they came to stay with me. And I wanted each of them to have a bed, for them to sleep together, and for none of the beds in the entire tiny house to be transformable furniture.

There is a second loft in the tiny home, and it goes to my boys. There is room for each of them to have their own bed, and they all get to sleep together. In the one closet--the only closet--beneath their loft should be room for all the clothes. We may not get to do a chest of drawers. But I honestly believe it will all fit, and it will all work.

I think the safest and most realistic approach is one of starting out with the bare minimum and seeing if there is room at all for anything else. I know this space is something I largely do not understand. And I think that means I get to treat it with some flexibility. I think that in order for the arrangement of living in the tiny home to be successful, I need to be willing to leave many things behind.

I don't know, friend. What do you think? Is going tiny crazy? What are your thoughts on what needs to be present in order for a house to be a home? Let me know. I'm anxious to hear from you. And I'll keep you informed as the rest unfolds!

Warmly,

D