Running Lean: Part Three

There are pluses and minuses to everything. Take the “tiny house” movement, for example.

New England town ordinances typically restrict a tiny house to an uninhabitable auxiliary structure on a property with an existing legal dwelling. A partial workaround is to put wheels on the tiny house and call it an RV.

But if the RV sits for more than a few months it is apt to get assessed and taxed as part of the real estate value of the overall property. Even if it has wheels on it. And eventually, if someone is living in the RV, residential zoning will likely require a move to an RV park or a place where zoning allows it.

In other words, the tiny house movement has a giant cannon-shot hole in the side of it. Where will you be allowed use it?

Only the devout can ignore these and other negatives.

Still, I love the idea of a tiny house.

Writing about Jay Shafer, arguably the father of the tiny house movement, Mark Sundeen says, “he described himself as a “meaning addict,” always looking for higher significance in material objects. “A gate in a picket fence that opens onto a narrow path that leads through a yard to an open porch that covers a door,” he said, “is a set of symbols we recognize as signposts guiding us through increasingly private territory toward the threshold of someone’s clandestine world.””

Fantastic! Couple that with the idea that you can build your own dwelling, own it outright, and live in it for next to nothing and you have the perfect thing for anyone looking to live light on the land.

Imagine. A life you can manage!

Here’s a nice, typically-sized version of a tiny house:



It’s said that an image in the mind is almost as good as the real thing. In some ways better because you can filter out the negatives.

I say, “Dream on!” In fact, park a little scooter behind that tiny house as well.