Designing a Multi-Functional Nursery in a Borrowed Space
Post Summary: Designing a Temporary Nursery in a Borrowed Space (as a Method of Soothing Anxiety)
Our baby is expected in April. Due to recent complications, it was recommended to us by medical professionals to prepare for the possibility of his/her early, emergency arrival. For now, we’re taking it one milestone week at a time, grateful for every tick of the clock with this little one incubating inside me.
I actively try to think positive. I do believe that there’s unfathomable power in our energy and mindsets. Still, I’ve found the anxiety I’ve experienced during this pregnancy impossible to shelve entirely. It bubbles up in odd times, and has crept into my actions — or inactions — throughout the first and third trimesters in particular. This has been the root of my reluctance to plan a nursery of some sort. To be uncomfortably transparent, I was scared of creating an environment for a little one who might never experience it.
With my first pregnancy, I found myself mentally designing the closet nursery from the day I saw my test results. It was such a deliberate and heart-filled little process and place, with no detail left unconsidered. This time around, I’m more focused on the baby’s first home— my body— and the way it has both bolstered and betrayed us. My priorities have simplified and slowed. I’m honed in on one sanctuary at a time. One event at a time. One day at a time. (This isn’t so much by choice as it is by necessity.)
In the first trimester, I looked ahead by bits and pieces. I squared away the crib, dug out the old carrier and cloth diapers, and made a list of pump parts that needed replacing. But then, between our move from the cottage and the subsequent health scares, I stopped. I felt stuck in every way.
Besides, this is my second time I’ve found myself planning a nursery — our last nursery — in a borrowed space. And much like my health, there are things I can change, and things I simply and frustratingly cannot. Sometimes it’s a relief to surrender to one of the limited paths before you. Other times there’s a sense of urgency to fight like hell to form a new path. I didn’t want to surrender. But I also felt far too stretched to do much of anything else.
This past weekend I turned 40, and I rounded a curve. I’m diving back into this precious pregnancy with a shifted mindset. Every kick and roll from the baby is part of a new, intimate conversation between the two of us about our future. Sleeplessness is no longer time wasted, but bonding time gained.
As far as the nursery is concerned, I’m regaining sight of an activity I love— working with what I’ve got. I’m blending what already exists in the room with a mix of layers and materials thick with meaning. (The photos in this post are various pieces + inspirations I’m putting to use.)
I can’t change the carpet, the ceiling light/fan, or even certain furnishings… just like I can’t change some of the things taking place within my body and the baby’s. But I can create a safe, and loving space— inside and outside the womb. And I am finally able to envision and embrace a multi-functional place for our growing family to experience together.
Posts showing the room transformation to come.
Mini Crib for Our Small Space Nursery
This was a bittersweet moment. I really wanted to have our second child here at the cottage.
Unfortunately, the timing simply didn't align. (Click here to read my post about becoming pregnant after trying to conceive for 2 years.)
For months, West asked to see where the baby will sleep, so we finally showed him the lil’ convertible crib, which will accompany us on our next adventure...
We have the Bloom alma mini+ crib, which is more compact than a standard design, and can convert to a larger size and toddler bed when the time comes.
We're Moving!
After a decade in our tiny canal cottage, we are moving. (And not to the French farmhouse quite yet.)
You see, we made the offer on the farmhouse the same week I conceived. Before discovering that I was pregnant, our plan was to travel to France (contingent upon COVID) in April to begin eight months of restoration work on the property. Naturally, our baby is expected to arrive in late April. (Ah, the universe!)
So we had a choice: Either stay in our beloved little LA cottage for the birth + fourth trimester (knowing that we’d have one foot out the door, plus zero help with the baby, West or my small business), or take the leap and uproot our company and home lives by my third trimester to be closer to family.
We chose family. Especially since, like so many other folks across the globe, we haven’t seen each other for a year or more.
After much deliberation, we’ve started planning an ~800 square-foot, sustainable cottage (classified as an ADU or “Accessory Dwelling Unit”) in a clearing on my parent’s property in Northern Florida.
The intention of this little space is for it to be a combined home/office/studio for my family and business when we’re not in France, and for it to be enjoyed by others when we’re away. Then, down the road, it can become a private residence to long-term care experts for my parents, should that become necessary.
Just like with the farmhouse, what drew me to this concept (beyond the proximity to family) is the idea of shared spaces and belongings. We’re excited to experience multigenerational living and support one another while sharing select amenities and goods.
Plus — with the arrival of the baby and some larger work projects unfolding behind-the-scenes — Adam and I could use some help in the months to come. And my folks, who are in their mid-70s, could use some help lately, too.
While we design and build our little ADU and await the right moment to begin our journey in France, we’ll be staying in my parents’ home. Initially, I dug my heels in about this, stubbornly repeating to Adam that I would not be turning 40 and having a baby in a home that’s not my own, thank-you-very-much. I paced the weathered floors of our beachside home while wondering out loud, on a relentless loop, just how on earth I could continue to nurture my interiors business while living for months out of a suitcase in the upstairs of the house in which I grew up.
After all, as someone who has carved out a career in the home space, and as someone who is the sole income earner for her immediate family, it is nerve-wracking from a business perspective to abruptly have no dedicated space in which to create for several months. But this move feels right.
We will actively be working on two entirely unique small spaces (the prairie cottage, and the 1800’s farmhouse), which we get to call home and share with others, both physically and digitally. We get to expand our son’s world and bring new life into it. Our adventure-loving pups will be able to run through a slice of paradise, no leashes required. And we can finally, FINALLY hug our wonderful parents.
The financial jump of going from renting in Venice to co-owning in France and building in Florida might seem extravagant, but it’s actually not. Our Venice cottage, although tiny, is located in a major, expensive city, and its proximity to the beach, marina and canals makes it a real estate goldmine. During our decade there, we invested as much in rent, updates, and the heightened cost of living than the farmhouse and ADU will cost us combined— especially since the farmhouse is shared between three parties.
To be able to introduce West to new natural splendors while welcoming his baby sibling into a home that’s overflowing with helping hands and unwavering love is such a privilege and gift.
We’ll have a live/work space of our own soon enough. For now, that love is all we need.
We Bought a (Tiny!) Farmhouse!
On the last day of 2020, we bought a house.
A very old, very small farmhouse... in France.
I’ll turn 40 this year, and up until this point the biggest purchase I’d ever made was my plain little car that I bought in my 20s. Adam and I have been renting our tiny cottage here in Venice for ten years, and never truly allowed ourselves to even consider the vague possibility of homeownership until recently.
This acquisition didn’t happen easily, and took months.
Global lockdowns and the financial + emotional strain of the pandemic (both in general and within the bubble of our family and small business) impacted every step of the process. The undertaking would’ve been complicated enough to begin with, regardless of the mayhem of 2020. But, with a firm belief in our vision, along with the help of what feels like a thousand warm-hearted people, it’s finally official.
We first began speaking to a realtor about the property (which features an <800 sqft residence and additional outbuildings,) in May. In August, while the five of us were in the aforementioned car driving to/from Idaho, we decided to take a bold leap and make our offer on the farmhouse. (It turns out that this happened to be the same week I got pregnant, because that’s just how the universe works.)
Those days and the months that followed were a flurry of phone calls, Google spreadsheets and group text chains, as we planned on joint ownership with two other parties.
From the onset, we envisioned sharing the farmhouse with family and friends in one form or another. Not only are we accustomed to a co-living format when residing abroad, but sharing household assets is an important part of our lifestyle here at the Cottage in Venice. I’ve become a firm believer that we don’t all necessarily need one of everything to ourselves. We’ve shared utilities and spaces with our next door neighbors for ten years, and this has enhanced our sense of community while decreasing our expenses and consumption.
The farmhouse isn’t a timeshare property. Instead, it’s a residence that we can all enjoy together or separately at any time. The co-owners of the farmhouse are my life-long closest friends with whom I’ve lived, worked and traveled extensively in the past. One has purchased property as part of a partnership before, which has helped us chart the more formal aspects of this acquisition, and map out our internal legal agreements between us as part of our joint ownership.
Together, we will renovate and restore the farmhouse. We will also develop the barn into a shared living space. We made this purchase with the intention of the buildings and land being part of our families across generations.
One of our primary goals throughout this project is to be as sustainable in our repairs and design as possible, reusing whatever materials we can, and opting for vintage and second-hand over newly manufactured goods. So far we’re off to a promising start with this endeavor, as we inherited several pieces of furniture and accessories from the previous stewards of the property.
We’re not sure when we’ll get there, but the work starts now. I look forward to sharing our design and lifestyle journey with you, and hope that you fall in love with this tiny French farmhouse just as we have.
FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS
Here are answers to some of the top questions we’ve already been asked repeatedly, and/or expect to receive frequently:
Will we leave our Venice cottage?
Yes. Sob! (More on this topic very soon.)
Who will move into our Venice cottage when we’re gone?
The owner has a plan, and is not currently seeking applicants.
Will we change our company name?
No, not any time soon. We’ll remain The Tiny Canal Cottage, even after we’ve said goodbye to our beloved home of 10 years.
How big is the farmhouse?
The residence is a 2 bedroom with an interior that measures under 800 square feet. There are additional outbuildings and a utility shed.
What size is the plot of land?
Several acres.
Where is the farmhouse located?
In the Midi-Pyrénées region of France. We are not disclosing the specific town for privacy reasons.
Why France?
I’ve been visiting France since middle school -- first as part of my education, then as part of my business. I’ve lived/worked there for long stretches of time in the past, and have hoped to find a place there for over a decade.
When do we plan to start renovating and living in the French farmhouse?
The structural repairs on the farmhouse will begin immediately, even as we remain in the States until it’s safe and permissible to travel to Europe. We hope to visit in 2021, but time and circumstance will tell. We plan to make stylistic renovations while living there, so we can do much of it on our own and share the experience with this community.
What about StanLee & Sophee?
Stubs and Soph are our family. (And long-time readers know that StanLee is the love of my life.) There’s no decision that Adam and I make without the pups at the top of our minds. We have a visa agency that can get the dogs the documents and permits needed for overseas travel and living, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, as our longer-term stays in France are likely a couple of years away. (Note: I will never place our dogs in the cargo hold of a plane.) When we travel for shorter stays abroad, the pups will be well loved and cared for by our family, just as they have been in the past.
How old is the farmhouse?
To our knowledge, it was built in the 1860s.
Will the farmhouse be a vacation rental? Is it a timeshare?
The farmhouse is intended to be a long-term residence for our family and the other owners when the timing is suitable. It is not a timeshare, nor is it a rental property.
Will we permanently leave the USA?
Not at this point. We will still spend a portion of each year in the States with our families.
What about school for the little ones?
We are familiar with schools in this region, and are considering them for the future. We are also interested in homeschooling options.
Why did we buy this property with partners?
There are numerous reasons why we preferred the idea of shared ownership for this property. As none of us can initially be there full-time, the split nature of the investment means that the home and land will be better used between multiple parties. And the combined responsibilities help spread out the financial burden of purchasing, repairing and renovating. Beyond the financial implications, sharing belongings between one another within the house reduces the need for each party to have their own separate space with its own furnishings, appliances, etc., which helps us reduce our collective footprint. And, lastly, it’s simply more enjoyable this way, as our families are used to traveling and working together. A takeaway from our COVID-19 experience is the clear understanding that we want to be in close proximity to the ones we love for sizable stretches of time.
Who are the co-owners of the farmhouse?
We have two partners in this property. They are life-long friends with whom I’ve lived, worked and traveled in the past. One has purchased property with co-owners before, which has helped us chart the formal aspects of partnering for this acquisition.
What about the carbon footprint of air travel?
This is one of the primary reasons we’re leaving our Venice cottage. Flying between our rental in California, the farmhouse in France, and our extended families in the States would be more non-essential air travel than we feel is responsible. (Less than 20% of the world’s population has ever been on a plane, yet the negative environmental impacts of air travel affect the entire planet.) In recent years (prior to the pandemic), we saved up most of our air miles to fly to/from our families. Now that we have the farmhouse, we will relocate our US residence to be closer to our loved ones, and reallocate our air miles to the trans-Atlantic flights.
Do we know people in the Midi-Pyrénées who helped in the purchase process?
Yes. Our friends in the region generously provided their time and energy, and acted as our surrogates on several occasions.
Where do we plan to have the baby?
The baby will be born in the States, though we plan to be out of the Cottage before then. (That’s another big blog post for later this month!)
Celebrating the Holidays While Staying "Safer at Home"
We’re missing our friends, family and community traditions as we stay “Safer at Home” here in Los Angeles for the holidays. But Adam and I are attempting to make magic within our bubble however we can for our four year old. Below are some of my favorite recent photos that capture the feelings and visuals that I hope he remembers from this strange season of life…
Learning about Regenerative Landscaping for the Home
Back in February, I wrote a post entitled Regenerative Small Space Living, in which I shared that I eagerly wanted to see what folks in small urban spaces such as ours can do to take less, give more, and create a future we choose.
At the same time, the pandemic began to spread across the globe, reaching the States just days later.
Above photo from the Cottage taken by Hilton Carter for WILD INTERIORS
In the entry, I shared the intended trajectory for our home and company: “I will continue to center my business upon sharing stories and solutions pertaining to living comfortably and contentedly in small spaces. After all, as humanity adapts to the necessary changes required to combat the climate crisis, we will need to learn how to better share, and live with less stuff (yet with no less abundance). Additionally, Adam and I are also diving headlong into learning about regenerative gardening and practices for small urban spaces. We want to be more than just a resource for comfortable and adaptable small space living. We’re also striving to be a resource for those who are interested in self-sufficient and restorative small space living, requiring less of the Earth, while also giving back to it.”
While we’ve certainly plunged ourselves into this work, the realities of the pandemic shuffled our plans for (re)educating ourselves, as well as our intentions to enroll our son in pre-school. As such, the back-to-school mentality that we’d embraced for all three of us went out the door, as we instead attempted to save whatever money possible, and explore the next steps we'll take as a family in terms of our living situation.
Related posts from 2020: Before & After: Turning our 8’ porch into a grow zone / Before & After: Creating an overhead canopy of vines
Of course as we scramble to reshape our lives (independently and collectively), the impacts of climate crisis remain, and the threats will only continue to increase exponentially in this crucial decade we’ve all now entered.
According to The Future We Choose, one of the steps we must take for survival is to create a greener planet in every space possible. Cities can become exceptional, with more trees, more parks for our children and wildlife, fewer cars, and plenty of urban agriculture. And every town -- no matter the size -- can look to Indigenous practices and wisdom, and embrace land care methods that give back to the Earth rather than poisoning and depleting it.
“Every vacant lot, every grimy unused alley, has been repurposed and turned into a shady grove. Every rooftop has been converted to either a vegetable or floral garden. Windowless buildings that were once scrawled with graffiti are instead carpeted with verdant vines… Things that used to be done individually are now done communally— growing vegetables, capturing rainwater, and composting… In community gardens, on rooftops, at schools, and even hanging from vertical gardens on balconies, food sometimes seems to be growing everywhere.” - The Future We Choose: Surviving the Climate Crisis
As we’re still unable to visit our libraries here in Los Angeles and cannot go back to school as planned, and since we’re navigating the realities of being home together 24/7 for the even-longer run, we’re figuring out other ways to further our education.
Above photo from the Cottage by Lucia Doynel
Shades of Green Permaculture is opening up a new online masterclass that we aim to take in January. Shades of Green is a regenerative landscape design, build and education firm in Atlanta, GA, and is Woman-Owned, a Certified B Corporation and member of the Sustainable Sites Initiative. For over 10 years, Shades of Green has designed and installed regenerative outdoor spaces for commercial, residential and municipal clients that contribute to protecting biodiversity, growing food, medicine, and pollinator habitat, building soil, and restoring the water cycle.
The course, The Regenerative Backyard Blueprint, is a 13-week step-by-step guide to transform participants’ yard into an eco-friendly paradise. The course is designed for those with a residential urban or suburban outdoor space who are looking to gain practical skills in permaculture, resilience, nature connection, and ecology.
The course is intended for folks who:
live in an urban or suburban setting and want a sustainable outdoor space but aren't sure where to begin.
want to grow food, including fruit trees, berries, nut trees, vegetables, culinary and medicinal herbs.
want to help conserve and bolster our pollinator and songbird populations.
want their garden to contribute to the climate solution, and are ready for their landscape to reflect such values.
are ready to plan their outdoor space, no matter how small, so time in the garden can be enjoyed with the knowledge that it’s a healthy and organic environment.
are parents who want their children to know where their food comes from and feel connected to the environment.
are capable of doing some or all of the work, but need direction and help figuring out what actually applies to your a residential-scale project of their size.
Beginning January 4, 2021, participants can expect seven immersive course modules, how-to videos, construction diagrams, implementation tools, virtual site visits, and weekly live Q&As with Shades of Green Founder and Managing Director, Brandy Hall.
For those interested in learning more about the course prior to signing up, Shades of Green is releasing The 3 Pillars of a Regenerative Landscape, a free webinar series starting December 8th.
“Green space is beneficial for community health, happiness and overall success. However, there is significantly less public green space in low-income and BIPOC communities.” - @intersectionalenvironmentalist
I look forward to learning how to improve our own backyard, and I harbor the hope that one day — sooner than later — we’ll all better understand how to transform our towns into places where everyone has access to green spaces and green foods.
Pregnancy Month 5 / Sheltering at Home Month 9
As we close out November, I’m in month 5 of my pregnancy, and we’re nearly at month 9 of sheltering at home.
We’ve embraced the earlier nights, filling them with glittering lights and fragrant garlands and greenery throughout the Cottage.
Above: A curtain of twinkling lights. (Click here to shop the strands.)
We’ve slowly started decorating for the season. This year, it’s more for something joyful and different to do than anything else, I think…
Above: West wearing his new “Grow With Me” clothes (which last for years and through growth spurts) from Caribou Kids Clothing.
West has picked some of his own ornaments, like a little bird’s nest made of vines, and a bundle of acorns he keeps in an repurposed box on the vintage coffee table.
Our neighbors are still sharing their amazing food with us, while Adam bakes us all sourdough bread to share a few times per month.
This miraculous bump is growing, which is heartening and helps calm my nerves about my “high-risk” pregnancy.
Above: Much-appreciated maternity leggings from Boob Design.
I’m living almost entirely in leggings (pictured above), a loungewear set (pictured below), and a stretchy “Nap Dress” that I suspect will be particularly helpful when nursing in the months to come.
The baby’s first present arrived via a socially-distanced drop-off: a vintage set of handmade crochet booties. Holding them made me process the pregnancy in a way I realized I’d not yet permitted myself to experience.
Our son has grown substantially in recent months, so we ordered him a batch of long-lasting, “grow with me” bamboo clothes, including a holiday set that he’ll undoubtedly wear year-round. (His current grow with me clothes still fit, as they have for years. It’s everything else that he’s outgrown.)
Above: West’s height progression since COVID.
We’ve been attempting our first gingerbread man (borderline inedible) and gingerbread houses (which collapsed within minutes) with West. The excitement of the activity itself is what our four year old clearly relishes the most.
We’re still attempting to be as low waste as possible, using items such as our water carbonator 5-6 times per day, and relying exclusively on things like our bidet attachment. (We’ve bought just one 4-pack of toilet paper in 2020.) I
It’s admittedly more challenging to stay low waste at the grocery store since reusables aren’t permitted in Los Angeles during the pandemic. But we’re still sticking to all the reusables we can, such as our washable face masks and washable un-paper towels, cotton wipes, and so forth.
Above: A face mask made with deadstock fabric from SUAY. This mask is a buy-1-donate-1, with the donations going directly from the maker to Indigenous youth, and the leftover dollars going Seeding Sovereignty.
It’s still a rocky season of life for us, as it is for most. But I’m filled with gratitude for our health and home, and for all the medical and essential workers out there who’ve been working relentlessly in order to keep us all safer.
Low Waste, Small Space Holiday Wall Decor
Not enough room for a tree in your small space? (Same here, although our 4 year old might wear me down with his requests to get a tabletop version this year.) Either way, here’s one easy way to use fresh greenery to create space savvy holiday decor for a small home. (View the 30-second video here.)
List of supplies:
Live branches
A bit of rope
A nail or damage-free Command strip
Battery-operated twinkle lights (we use rechargables)
A zip tie (to attach the battery pack to the back of the branch)
Clippers
I simply wrapped the twinkle lights around the branch, tied the rope to either end, suspended the entire piece from a sturdy wall hook, and then added small florals and twigs throughout the branch for a pop of color and variation in texture. I carefully spritz the branch with a bit of water every few days, and replace the bright floral clippings as needed after they’ve fully dried up.
The final result is simple yet striking. And, best of all, at the end of the season the rope, hook and twinkle lights can be reused, and the greenery can go in the compost.
P.S. Here’s an alternative for folks who prefer an artificial, ready-made version.
Space-Saving Helmet for Safer Cycling
Post Summary: A simple step towards saving our heads, saving some space, and saving the planet.
More than 1/3 of all car trips in America are within 2 miles. If folks who are able to do so opt to walk, use public transportation, and/or bike instead, this 10% decrease in driving would prevent about 110 million metric tons of carbon dioxide from entering our atmosphere. (Source: NY Times)
Since finding my confidence in my 30s (especially since becoming a parent), I’m happy to be that person who is always showing up (online and in person) wearing her bike helmet. So much so that I reached out to Closca to ask if they’d be interested in working with me to spread the word about their space-saving + head-saving “foldable” helmet.
In my book, Small Space Style, there’s an entire section about ways to conserve space when storing sporting equipment. Needless to say I wish I’d known about the Closca when writing it.
As someone who gets around almost exclusively by bike (and as someone who has been struck by cars while doing so), here’s why I like the Closca helmet and wanted to share it:
Its unique, collapsible design reduces its size by 55% in mere seconds, making it easy to tote AND easy to store in a small home or apartment.
It offers essential protection and won’t fold while being worn, and it complies with the strict safety standards in Europe, Asia, USA & Canada.
It’s designed to work with Interchangeable visors, so you can swap between a reflective band for increased visibility, or a knit visor in cold weather.
It has a subtle ventilation system, which I appreciate because biking with this messy mane of mine gets hot in the SoCal sun.
Here’s to taking smart, simple steps to save our heads, save some space, and save the planet.
Note: This blog post was not sponsored, but the corresponding Instagram post was a paid partnership.
A Traditional-Meets-Informal Holiday Table
As a way of showcasing some informal-meets-traditional tablescape ideas for this holiday season during which we’ll be sheltering-in-place, Food52 invited me to do LIVE broadcast in which I styled this lil’ vintage garden table at the cottage for their online community. Photos below:
(Click here to view the IGTV LIVE video via Food52.)
Storing + Washing + Wearing Masks
Post Summary: Drying and storing masks in a small space, and a multi-tasking accessory to remind you to bring and wear one.
At the start of the pandemic, my husband used to always have to remind me to grab my mask on the way out the door. Now, seven months in and counting, we’ve found a routine that seamlessly integrates these necessities into our small home and lives. By now, this is a well covered topic in general, but I still receive inquiries about our mask collection and storage, so here are the details. (Remember, masks aren’t just about keeping ourselves safer— they’re about keeping others safer. It’s our responsibility to look out for our communities and our neighbors, particularly those who are most at risk.)
MASK SOURCES
We’ve found our collection of face coverings via various small retailers and shops. The majority of our adult + child masks are from The Odells, and a handful (that can accommodate filters) are from Suay Sew Shop. Each mask that The Odells sells creates 10 meals for hungry children and adults, and a percentage of all Suay’s masks sales go to feeding LA garment workers affected by COVID-19. Suay uses deadstock, vintage and remnant linens to create adjustable masks with a filter pocket and reshapable nosepiece.
MASK STORAGE
We store our clean masks in a small woven basket that’s affixed directly to the inside of our front door via a simple metal hook. (The basket is several years old from Connected Goods. Other versions that would be good for serving the same purpose can be found here. Handmade or vintage onion baskets are often well-suited options, too.)
MASK WASHING
After wearing our masks, we toss them in a metal bucket that’s suspended from our shower curtain rod, where they wait to until their next trip to the washing machine.
MASK DRYING
To prolong the life and structure of our masks, we dry them on our makeshift clothesline, our bedroom curtain rod, or from a space-saving, 3-tiered herb hanger I found at a small boutique in Santa Fe last year.
MASK WEARING
As for remembering to wear my mask, my handmade, 3-in-1 holder (which can be converted into a long necklace or a wrapped bracelet) by Maddalena Bearzi is a practical piece of wearable art. It reminds me to always have my mask at-the-ready— especially when biking, walking the pups, or running after the little one as he practices riding his bike. (Plus it’s perfect for wearing to a secure ballot drop box or to the polls — just saying.)
Tiny Living in 2020 - An Interview with Jewel Pearson of Ms. Bohemian Soul
Jewel Pearson is a Tiny House owner, consultant and advocate who has been an active and outspoken leader on creative, accessible small space living since 2006. Drawn to her vibrant style, her deeper dissection of the world of tiny living, and her sheer love of sunshine, I finally connected with Jewel over Instagram after long admiring her from afar.
Jewel believes that "you don’t have to give up luxury to go tiny,” just as I believe that “you don’t need to live large to live beautifully.” She shares her knowledge and extensive work in tiny house designing, building and living in order to help others explore this distinctive and delightful pathway to home ownership.
Personally, as a 39 year old small business owner who has never owned her own home, and who is raising a family that cherishes experiences over belongings, I am both professionally and personally interested in Jewel’s work. As such, I was overjoyed when she generously agreed to do a Q&A for this blog.
I haven’t introduced many outside stories to this site over the years because there are countless other home decor and lifestyle sites that curate and publish interviews and home tours full-time. What I believe sets The Tiny Canal Cottage apart is that it’s a real-life, decade-long experiment in small space living as an evolving, growing home and company. But Jewel and I share enough overlap that I know her story will resonate well with this blog’s readership, while her expertise, history and viewpoints offer vital insights that I cannot.
When devising the questions for this interview, Jewel and I wanted to avoid the typical inquiries that she and I both receive routinely from other media outlets. We aimed to redirect the light away from the extensively-covered topics such as storage and decor, and focus instead on the more meaningful issues behind small space living, such the role it can play in this era climate crisis, and its importance in an increasingly polarized economy and society that’s rife with social and racial injustices.
Want to know more about Jewel’s business? Visit her website and Instagram, and explore her professional services, such as her tiny house plans (available for purchase), tours, consultations, workshops, and public / virtual speaking options.
Photo courtesy of Jewel Pearson © Ms. Bohemian Soul.
Question: What draws you to tiny living, Jewel?
Jewel’s Reply: My initial draw to tiny living was having imagined it being my retirement plan, once my daughter was successfully headed off into her own. I had dreamed about it as living in a RV and traveling nomadically throughout the country, but as I got closer to the time and was looking at RVs I realized the ones from my dream weren’t in my budget, if I wanted to “retire”. I later stumbled on a story about a now friend, who’d built a tiny house around 2013 that resonated with me and then decided that’s what I was going to do.
For me tiny living represented freedom and “lightness”, freedom from having had to be so responsible as I did raising my daughter as a single mom and having to make decisions focused more so on needs and requirements. The RV life, as I had imagined it, meant opportunities for “irresponsibility” and the ability to make decisions based on wants and desires. I saw it as an opportunity to not have roots and attachments, but exist kind of nomadically – which, while I don’t actually travel with my house, I am still able to feel that personally as I am able to travel more (pre-Covid) because with tiny living my responsibilities and expenses have been reduced and that is the dream.
Photo courtesy of Jewel Pearson © Ms. Bohemian Soul
Question: Do you find your passion for tiny living growing, receding, or generally evolving over time?
Jewel’s Reply: I find my passion for tiny living growing and evolving. After 5 years I still love my house and love living in it. I love that I can quickly change my décor and make it feel refreshed and I have added and enlarged my outdoor spaces to make everything even more enjoyable. My passion has grown and evolved in what I feel is my community involvement and “responsibility” to represent people who look like me and weren’t being seen in this movement so they and their voices are included. My involvement has also evolved into conversations with government officials around legalizing tiny homes. It is also my desire and almost bucket list item to build a tiny house community.
Photo courtesy of Jewel Pearson © Ms. Bohemian Soul
Question: What you believe tiny living has to offer in an era of climate crisis?
Jewel’s Reply: Tiny living helps you to think more about your footprint and impact on the world. Living smaller offers a lighter footprint; you are consuming and wasting less almost automatically. Many tiny houses are designed to be more energy efficient, as they’re solar powered, have compost toilets, rain catchment systems, etc. The owners are or become more focused on the earth, with gardening and farming and become more focused on the food that they eat and the food’s source. It’s almost as a natural progression that you want to become a better steward of the earth through tiny living, even if that wasn’t your original focus and intent, and there is a lot of value in that in light of our climate crisis and certainly more value in it if more people took that path. Tiny houses on wheels, which offer mobility options should be and are a valuable consideration for the areas often impacted by fires, they present options for safety and less loss of property.
Photo courtesy of Jewel Pearson © Ms. Bohemian Soul
Question: What you believe tiny living has to offer in our increasingly polarized economy?
Jewel’s Reply: Each major city is currently experiencing an affordable housing crisis and issues with homelessness and the crises are increasing with no real end in sight. Tiny living offers viable solutions for both, if cities would just consider them. The west coast is doing a good job in doing so with the legalization of tiny houses on wheels as ADUs in many cities, which just makes sense as that option eliminates the major financial expense associated with building an ADU on foundation, it provides housing for the tiny house owner and it provides financial support for the conventional homeowner. If you consider how many backyards are available that aren’t being used for anything that would support the concept, it’s a win and no brainer. For the majority of my tiny house living I have been located in that same scenario, though not with official approval as it is currently not technically legal to do so here in Charlotte and in 2019 the city officials required me to move my home. However, I continue to try to have the conversations here with city officials and I continue to share the examples of what is being done in other progressive areas, as considering tiny houses on wheels offers an immediate solution for housing and it offers financial support for conventional homeowners and people are struggling and need solutions. It not the end all solution by any means nor is it something everyone is interested in, but it offers a very viable solution that should be considered.
This has also been a big consideration of mine as I’ve focused on the Black and brown communities missing from the larger tiny house conversations and movement. Much of the reasoning of why people get involved with tiny living is for the opportunities it presents for less debt/debt free living and the ability to own your home quicker, without the standard constrictions of mortgage loans. That is something that is sorely needed in those communities as the communities continue to show up last, year after year, in the rates for homeownership and in light of what should be major concerns with the existing wealth gap in this country and it’s continual increase without remediation. There are numerous historical and systemic issues that have led to and continue to contribute to both of those problems, but tiny living offers a viable solution for getting to homeownership quicker, for less debt/debt free living and opportunities for wealth building. The opportunities are something definitely worth consideration as so many people continue to pursue the very elusive “American Dream.”
Photo courtesy of Jewel Pearson © Ms. Bohemian Soul
Question: What sorts of microagressions do you experience as a Black woman in both the tiny home and design spaces?
Jewel’s Reply: One of the things that I’ve learned recently is to call “microagressions” what they really are, which is trauma. As a Black woman in this movement I’ve experienced trauma in the racism I’ve had to deal with in attending events in rural areas, in Facebook groups where participants used ethnic slurs and it is permitted and I’d receive racist comments on social media posts. I’ve received an anonymous threatening email message from someone clearly associated with the movement, as I’ve been very vocal about the lack of representation and inclusivity within the movement and people felt “attacked” because I was calling it out. As a Black woman living in my tiny house, I’ve twice had to relocate my home due to personal safety concerns due to experienced racism, once when my house was located in a RV Park and then most recently where it was located on a farm in a rural area right outside Charlotte.
Interestingly, in the design space I had a situation occur with a woman who bought my plans and built her tiny home from them. I ended up spending a lot of free consulting time with her during her build, as she was experiencing a lot of issues with her builder and I coached her through her build, as I could relate and felt compassion for her situation. Her house turned out fabulously, with obviously my plans as the foundation. Fast forward to last year, she shared she was going to be filming with “Living Big in a Tiny House” so I reminded her of the plans purchase agreement which requires properly crediting the design owner. After the filming had been completed and shared on social media, people who recognized her home’s design started tagging me in the posts as they were inquiring about her design and the correlation to my home. I then look at the interview and see that when asked about the design of her home there is this weird awkwardness and explanation of the design idea/inspiration being a result of her research and her design style, blah, blah, blah. She never credits me as the owner of the plans or the design. So I reach out again to remind her of the contractual agreement, she then shifts the responsibility to the host saying he agreed he’d include the info and loops him in and instead of either or both of them doing the right thing, his response to me is that he felt like what I was trying to do was ride his popularity to gain personal exposure. I had absolutely zero interest in his “following” as they aren’t actually my audience, nor do I need his “exposure” and I’d actually declined a prior opportunity with him to film my home. What I was requiring was that proper credit be given, as per contractual agreement. Never mind the fact that it was absolutely the right thing to do. His recourse was to add a note to his notes in YouTube, which had I not been dealing with a number of other priorities at the time would not have flown and I would’ve involved my attorney. What I know to be true is that disrespect would not have happened to a white designer, man or woman and it was uncalled for and came from a place of privilege.
Photo courtesy of Jewel Pearson © Ms. Bohemian Soul
Question: Has the pandemic shifted your views on where you want to be or how you want to live once travel becomes safer and more accessible on the other side of Covid?
Jewel’s Reply: There are actually a couple of pandemics currently occurring, one being Covid and the other being racism, both of which are very negatively impacting the Black community. With that in mind, once travel becomes safer and more accessible I know that I want to live somewhere I feel welcome and safe. Since early March I have been living in an apartment in the city here and have not been living in my tiny house since due to the incidences of racism I experienced, and because I’d experienced some challenges with the farm director and his management and direction of the property. I’d been on this 11-acre farm alone for 7 months and I didn’t feel safe, but didn’t have anywhere to relocate my house at that time. I was able to relocate my house in August and am planning to move back into it once the site’s infrastructure work is completed at the new location and I’m looking forward to that.
Longer term, I am considering places outside of the country for at least part time residence. Cartagena and Medellin, Colombia are areas of interest as is Mexico. I work remotely, but am required to be in a located in a place where my company has offices so that’s a big factor and also a limitation. My plan would be to still maintain my tiny house in the US, but I want to have options outside the US.
Longer-Lasting, No-Carve Pumpkin Decorating for a Small Stoop
On his birthday last month, our little one desperately wanted to create a jack-o-lantern. Knowing full well that a hallowed-out pumpkin wouldn’t survive long under the fluctuating marine layer and beaming sun in our coastal town, we caved in and carved one.
The results were endearing, but — as expected — only lasted until October 1.
After collecting and devouring a dozen Halloween books in recent days, our 4 year old was adamant about replacing the pumpkin. So we took a Tiny Adventure to a local farm / pumpkin patch, and selected a handful of funny little beauties to introduce to our small stoop. The agreement upon securing the batch was that they would be no-carve pumpkins, with the goal of them lasting longer.
We used the metal pumpkin glasses I found on Etsy years ago, along with a few other decorative facial features (made into stakes) that we found on-site at the farm.
(Click here for the pup version, click here for various other characters.)
The results continue to make us giggle whenever we walk into our home.
We’re not quite done yet. We intend to make a VOTE pumpkin, of course. See you at the polls, or at the ballot drop box, folks. Let’s vote in epic numbers — for the planet and for racial justice — so our voices cannot be ignored.
A Living, Over-the-Table Display of Fall Foliage for a Festive Occasion
Post Summary: How we created a space-saving, over-the-table canopy of real branches and flowers in celebration of the little one’s 4th birthday.
Time continues to boggle my mind— our little one turned 4 this week.
I believe this was the first year that he really understood the concept of his birthday. But, of course, it’s also the first year in which a proper party was out of the question due to the pandemic.
We pieced together a simple but festive celebration, replacing hugs with FaceTime calls (sigh), balloons with branches, wrapping paper with household linens (view more photos of this in last year’s birthday post), and a traditional cake with what I imagine must have been the world’s actual biggest donut.
Above: A child’s blanket designed by our friends, New Darlings, doubles as wrapping paper.
The birthday kid helped me create an arrangement of living fall foliage and sunflowers, which we picked up during a swift, masked visit to the flower market.
We used this adjustable, over-the-table system to frame the space-saving display.
What I appreciate about this design is that it consumes no tabletop inches, but instantly creates usable vertical space for a dynamic visual when paired with greenery, hanging lights, and/or decorative accents.
I use zip ties sparingly, as they’re single-use plastic, but I admit to using a handful for this display.
We’d run out of floral wire, as Adam uses it to train the cherry tomatoes on the grow porch, and twine couldn’t support the larger branches.
So the zip ties came to the rescue, making the process faster and much more secure— helpful, given that a (4 year old!) child was actively participating in the creation process.
An hour later, we had a cheerful little spot to quietly sing West a birthday song and attempt to make a dent in that enormous donut.
It was the activity more than the finished product that my son clearly relished the most. Brushing each other’s hands as we reached for the same magnolia branch, our sincere deliberations about where to place the prized sunflowers, and our cartoon-like exclamations when parts of the arrangement tumbled off the rods and crashed to the floor before being properly secured.
When the display dries out later this week, we’ll disassemble it together and tote the greenery to the compost and green bin via our fold-up wheelbarrow, which he loves to hitch a ride in once it’s empty. I vow to indulge him on every wobbly ride he requests— even when my back is sore and I’m behind on work. Time is boldly reminding me that my little one is swiftly becoming not-so-little, and that he won’t fit or delight in our sweet wheelbarrow rides forever.
How the Pandemic is Reshaping Our Living Situation
The following is part of a contributor article I wrote for Food52 / Home52. Click here to view the original piece.
My family has long lived and worked in a small space. Since the onset of the pandemic in our region, I’ve been relieved that the walls haven’t closed in on us. While our worlds have shrunk, our beloved tiny home, thankfully, has not.
We’ve lived in our less-than-400-square-foot cottage in Venice Beach, Calif., for nearly a decade, and I’ve operated my small business from home that entire time. In recent years, my husband and business partner, our preschooler, our two rescue beagles, and I have lived side by side, day in, day out.
On some mornings pre-COVID-19, my husband and our son would pair off to tackle adventures around town, providing me with time alone to write, edit, and consult with clients. Such casual excursions are now no longer an option for those living in large cities.
Getting outside is different here than it is in less-populated towns. The sheer number of people we pass while walking our dogs or biking to conduct essential errands is high enough without risking nonessential activities—most of which are inaccessible anyway. Our beloved local library remains closed. The museums at which we hold memberships have shut their doors. And some local shops are slowly locking up for good.
While our home and its narrow thoroughfare garden are a safe haven that we’re fortunate to be able to continue to rent, our bubble basically stops at the lot line. And, in the long run, that is the problem—not the size of our cherished little cottage.
When my husband and I first stumbled across our house, we didn’t give a single thought to its square footage (or lack thereof). We were drawn to its numerous windows, vaulted ceilings, pocket doors, and functional form. Every single day since, we’ve noted in one way or another just how much we love this spot, and how lucky we are to be here.
Some might see our space as limiting, but in truth, it has expanded our world immensely.
For years we’ve enjoyed the ease with which we could pedal our cargo bike to the beach, walk to the market, and canoe among the ducks and cormorants while waving to our neighbors strolling over nearby footbridges. We’ve delighted in the fact that it never takes more than half an hour to clean our entire cottage from top to bottom. And we’ve learned to dance with and around each other over our worn-out floors in a natural, joyful rhythm.
The decision to live in the sprawling, expensive, and often inconvenient city of Los Angeles is one that our family continued to commit to for the regional and cultural benefits. There is an abundance of public parks and natural retreats, access to museums, close proximity to a never-ending list of live performances, and (mostly) temperate weather that encourages a myriad of daily outings and events, year-round.
Now, abruptly, all of those things are inaccessible. So we’re left wondering what remains. We have no family here, and our friends are scattered throughout the region, each with their own teetering schedules and safety protocols. The question isn’t whether or not our house is too small for long-term sheltering in place. Instead, it's how sustainable is living within this cocoon—regardless of its square footage?
Still, perspective is key. We have a roof over our heads, access to clean water and healthy food, and devices (paired with connectivity) that help us maintain our workload and relationships. In this moment, as throughout our entire lives, the members of this household have benefited from the kind of societal privilege that needs to be acknowledged and paid forward.
For now, we are letting this ever-smaller world guide us. Outside of our immediate bubble, we discover where to donate food, home goods, bedding and funds. And within our immediate bubble, we check in with folks from over fence lines and from rooftops to ask what is needed by all. We swap books and kitchen supplies. We bundle bulk food orders with our neighbors. We now compost together rather than as an individual household. We share the produce we grow, as others share their bounty with us.
Our home is also more functional and appreciated than ever before. From our garden, Adam and I routinely set up our own, miniature nature school and playground for our child, and do so with whatever items are already available to us. When he’s ready to step inside, I swap places with him and my husband, shuffling my office outside, the dogs by my side.
More than a dozen years of living small (here and elsewhere) has taught us how to manage being within inches of one another for months on end. And, for us, these recent months have solidified our love of living simply. We fine-tuned the art of setting up and breaking down pop-up offices and home learning activities long ago, but what is newer to us since being home together nonstop is that most of our household rules and careful divisions of responsibilities are now fully out the door. Mealtimes are fluid. Activities are devised on the spot rather than planned in advance (unlike those early, ambitious weeks in March). Family movie night can be any night. Yet, these sorts of changes have been surprisingly welcome.
What we were not prepared for, however, was the whittling away of the area surrounding us—that expanded world we so deeply relished—and how each step beyond our home and garden now feels like a step into the unknown.
Note: First / key photo by Lucia Doynell.
Manageable Home Learning
Like millions of Americans right now, we are exhausted.
We are fortunate for countless reasons, and we are grateful for even more. Still, we are simply worn down.
Adam and I don’t want West to feel the weight of our fatigue.
At almost 4 years old, he’s ready for some semblance of schooling. But due to the ever-rising cost of pre-school in Los Angeles, coupled with the Covid-19 rates throughout the city, we are not sending our child to classes in the foreseeable future.
In order to give West a preschool-like feeling at the start of the weekdays, Adam and I have been packing themed lessons together at night for our little one to discover and explore the following mornings.
Spoiler alert: We’re not acing it as parents, folks. These are (very) low-lift lessons. I’m trying to be forgiving of such shortcomings, as we’re trying to run our small business in a recession, navigate family life in a big city during the pandemic, and attempt to figure out some major life changes and decisions (more on that later).
Just like with my office, we create a pop-up school space filled with workbook pages (usually from Highlights for Children), books, activities, and tools that support the morning’s theme. The theme is always something very general— like autumn, swimming, space, plants, etc. The obtuse nature of the themes helps us keeps things flexible, and prevents us from having to buy anything new in order to bring a fresh topic to life every day.
I’ve been filling West’s Uashama 100% organic paper backpack and collapsible, washable paper boxes / containers with the on-subject items he and Adam will use throughout the morning while I work.
And around lunchtime, we end up breaking it down for unstructured, open-ended play.
These sorts of mini lessons feel productive and doable. So while they’re not elaborate or innovative, they’re exactly what we can manage right now. And, most importantly, West is enjoying them.
More photos are below for those who are interested. (And while I have your attention: don’t forget to check your voter registration status or register to vote!)
Decluttering & Remaining Clutter-Free for the Long Run (Updated)
Have you ever gone through the process of decluttering and downsizing, only to find yourself slipping back into an overstuffed life a few months down the road? You’re not alone. Every day I receive questions about how to declutter and maintain the results.
First and foremost, I think it’s important to find a dedicated home for everything with which you part ways, as 80+% of donations end up in landfills, and there’s a bunch of privilege wrapped up in the concept of decluttering in the first place.
Secondly, before you declutter, I’d recommend pledging to stop the influx of new, unnecessary goods after doing so. Otherwise the cycle repeats itself, which is no good for your space, wallet, the planet, and the disenfranchised populations who statistically live closer to landfills and toxic manufacturing and waste facilities.
Finally, if an item no longer works for you and can be put to better use with someone else, then letting go is a gift for both parties! I’d suggest asking yourself what purpose(s) each piece serves if any, and then take it from there responsibly.
With that, here are some easy tips for remaining clutter-free for the long run.
Avoid Triggers
Identify your more reckless spending triggers, then take care to avoid them. For example, do you find yourself buying items off social media links or major retail sites when you’re bored, stressed or unable to sleep? Tuck the phone away and pick up a book, meet a friend, or take a walk instead. Do you buy junk at the airport during layovers? Bring your own snacks, bottles and entertainment with you, and don’t even step foot in the shops within the terminal.
Pause Before Purchasing
When online shopping, challenge yourself to wait at least 24 hours before checking out. Chances are you’ll realize that you don’t actually need all (or any) of the items in your cart.
Get One, Give Two
If you do commit to acquiring a new item, try giving away two items in its place. Keep in mind that it’s important to find a dedicated home for everything with which you part ways, as 80+% of donations end up in landfills.
Reduce Opportunities for Impulse Purchases
Once you’ve swapped your common disposable goods (such as paper towels, cotton rounds, cleaning supplies, diapers, and tampons) for reusable options, you’ll have far less shopping to do. And with fewer trips to the store, you’ll have fewer opportunities to make impulse purchases.
Decline Freebies
You don’t need to accept every free item and bit of SWAG dangled in front of you. Just walk away, or use the magic words: “No thank you.” If you still somehow end up with freebies of wellness products or clothing that can be of use to organizations in need, leave the goods sealed/unopened and donate them as soon as possible.
Donating Gifts
If someone gives you a gift you can’t use and/or don’t like, shake off the guilt and donate it immediately. It doesn’t do anyone any good for the thing to rot away in a box under your bed. Pay their generosity forward by regifting the item(s) to a fitting non-profit, local school, etc.
Ask Qualifying Questions
Before you purchase a new object, ask yourself the following questions— you might be surprised by how few items actually clear these hurdles to earn a coveted place in your home:
Do I already own something that serves the same purpose as this new item?
Was this product produced ethically and with sustainability in mind?
Can this piece multitask? (Of course this question doesn’t apply to all goods, but it can apply to many. Multi-functional pieces will reduce the number of items you need in your home, saving you money and reducing your footprint.)
Where will this item be stored when NOT in use? And do I have the space for it?
Lastly, if the piece(s) you’re considering pass all of the questions above, then ask yourself: Is there a vintage or handmade option of this item that I can find locally instead?
You can do it. For your sanity, for your wallet, for your home, for your busy schedule, and — above all — for the planet.
First/key photo from the cottage taken by Lucia Doynel.
The Leaf Blower
We have five Ficus trees in our tiny garden. For most of the year they’re easy enough to manage, requiring very little water, and a professional trim twice annually. But during the summer they drop pods. (Lots of them.)
When Sophee was a puppy she began eating the pods, which are toxic to dogs. After much discomfort on her part and worry on ours (along with lofty Los Angeles veterinary bills), she recovered. But we were left wondering: do we get rid of these beautiful trees? The only substantial trees on this lot? The trees that provided us with shade and privacy? The trees that make an otherwise pale space pop with life? The trees whose branches sway in the coastal breeze and gift us with one of the Earth’s most beautiful sounds? Or can we find some way to deal with the pods annually without them poisoning our sweet rescue beagles?
… Should I buy a leaf blower?
Thankfully, as she matured, Soph learned not to eat the pods. As with the grapes that occasionally drop from their vine, the dogs seem to inherently know to steer clear of them.
Over the nine years here, those Ficus trees have grown. And grown.
With (blissfully) more tree comes (not-so-blissfully) more fallen leaves. They aren’t those gorgeous, wide, orange leaves that herald in the changing season. Instead, they’re the little, cracking leaves that flood our pea gravel pathways within hours and make everything feel a bit chaotic in this compact footprint.
Should I buy a leaf blower now ?
Confession: I did buy a leaf blower. (Pre-pandmic, of course.)
It sat on the stoop in its box for a few days. I’d glare at it from my makeshift desk on the kitchen counter and shake my head at it (and myself). Eventually, I decided to return it, unopened, and embrace the leaves instead.
Not only are the leaves helpful with balancing out the matter in our compost tumbler, but they’re also a small part of the natural world that we get to experience here in our tiny patch of land that was once dry, cracked earth.
The soil is becoming healthier. The butterflies and ladybugs and bees are growing in numbers. (So much so that we set up a bug hotel so that some of them hopefully stick around in the winter.)
How lucky are we to shuffle through these little reminders of a regenerated, tiny plot of land? Particularly now, as the light indicates that the summer is coming to a close, but the heat has yet to ease up, so the shade from the trees is deeply appreciated.
On a recent morning, I needed to clean up the walkway to record a video for a client. I began picking up the hundreds (thousands?) of leaves by hand. I could’ve borrowed our neighbor’s rake, but they’re not that much more effective on gravel, and I thought to myself: You’re always trying to slow down. Here’s your chance.
While I was out there, West joined me. We made a game out of gathering the leaves, filling up as many baskets from our rack on the stoop as possible.
He loved it.
I loved it.
It was slow.
It was simple.
No emails. No phone.
Just our hands and the leaves.
Everyone’s life is complicated enough as it is right now. If someone decides to buy something that makes their everyday feel a bit saner, I’m not here to guilt them for it. But in this context, the leaf blower experience was a good reminder for me that this (largely plastic) item was just one more item I could go without. And in going without, I got a whole lot more in return.
Back to School & WFH: Working & Studying in a Small Space
Post Summary: How to establish and maintain more efficient practices for working and schooling from home in compact quarters with a partner, roommate and/or kid(s) ever-present. (View a related 15 second video here.)
As the new school year approaches and folks around the globe are settling into the idea of potentially working and schooling from home for the long-haul, I thought it might be of assistance to some if I shared this updated post about how we managed our live/work/daycare/school practices here in our small space.
Below are several accessible tips I’ve learned over the course of a dozen years of operating a business full-time from small residences, including some newer points that I’ve adopted in recent years since my husband began working from home, and our son has grown from a baby to a toddler to a preschooler.
It’s my hope that these ideas will help you work and study effectively from a small house or apartment, whether you have dedicate space for a home-office and a home-school, or if you’re creating pop-up spaces.
Keep in mind that some days will undoubtedly be more challenging than others— there’s no magic solution to this juggling act. But the privilege of working from home during the pandemic is something to acknowledge and keep in perspective. So many people are out of work across the globe, and medical professionals, delivery personnel and workers tied to essential businesses are putting themselves at risk to keep the rest of us safe. Staying home— even if it’s not your preference— is important for our communities, so let’s make it work.
Make your bed
Studies show that people who make their beds tend to be more productive. But in a small space, I think that making the bed is doubly important. With limited square footage, the bed can become a useful surface for random tasks throughout the day, such as sorting/filing/printing papers.
Carve out time for self care
Whether it’s as simple as brushing your teeth and taking a shower— or more involved, like doing Yoga, making coffee/tea/a smoothie, putting on makeup if that’s your preference, and/or taking your pets for a (responsible!) walk, make sure to carve out time in your morning before work to accomplish the things you’d normally do before leaving your home for an office job.
Get dressed
I know this is often recommended to the point of exhaustion. Still, it really is helpful— even if you’re not on Zoom / FaceTime meetings during the day.
Set up a pop-up workspace (if you don’t already have a dedicated one)
If you have a dedicated desk or dining table, fantastic. If not, create a pop-up workspace. Depending on your living situation, this might mean converting an end table into an office, employing a collapsible bistro table, or using a lap tray in bed. Whatever it is, set yourself up with the tools you’ll need throughout the day, so that you won’t loose your train of thought or productivity by having to get up and find supplies (and thus risk getting distracted) while you’re in a positive workflow. If possible, set up shop by a window, or place a mirror nearby to reflect the natural light from the closest window. It can be emotionally beneficial to get some exposure to nature and/or your community while you work.
Clock-in
Set a time to start and stick to it. I believe this is why I have been so productive at working from home over the past dozen years. When I first began working remotely, I had a client with whom I had to check in every morning at 8AM, and that obligation provided a me with a sense of formal structure, much like a standard office does.
Set your phone timer for scheduled breaks
When you’re working from home, it can be tempting to hop up and take care of chores around the house. Overall, it’s a great gift to be able to check off your personal to-do list while simultaneously addressing your professional duties. But the reality is that this can be distracting and derailing. Instead of succumbing to the urge to steal random moments to manage chores, set timers on your phone to coincide with the times of day you’ll likely need a brief break to stretch and use the bathroom. At those intervals, allot an extra handful of minutes for calling a friend, getting a snack, doing the dishes, watering the plants, tending to personal matters, etc. Let your parter / child / roommate know when these breaks are scheduled so you can touch base or get out of each others way if needed. When your timer sounds again to signify the break is up, back to work.
Try earbuds or noise-canceling headphones
Whether you prefer to listen to music, need silence, or simply can’t stand another minute of your housemate’s keyboard clacking, invest in a pair of earbuds or noise canceling headphones if possible.
Consider a curtain or screen
It might be worthwhile to use a makeshift curtain, accordion screen or a room divider of some sort to cordon off your work zone. (There’s plenty more about this topic in my book, Small Space Style.) Beyond adding a sense of privacy, this can provide physical and symbolic boundaries for those with whom you share your home. It can also keep your eager eyes in check when they’re tempted to wander over to the snack shelf or laundry pile when they should be focused on your work instead.
Practice In-House Texting
This might seem absurd in a small home or apartment, but consider texting your partner/roommate/etc. or asking them to text you if something needs to be discussed. That way you will see the text when you choose to look at your phone and can then respond accordingly, rather than being yanked abruptly from a focused moment. (Adam and I often do this, even though we live in under 400 sqft… it works.)
Explore storing your administrative supplies in more than one area if you’re feeling cramped
While it’s handy to keep your must-haves within arm’s reach (as mentioned in tip 4, above), you don’t need to cram ALL of your supplies into one area in your small home office. If you rarely use a printer but have one, perhaps store it somewhere else so that you don’t feel like your work zone is taking over your home. (Examples of this can be found in the IGTV video linked at the start of this post.) Same goes for bulky files, business tools, etc— especially if you’re sharing them with someone else in the home. Spreading accessories out will aid with storage, but it will also allow all parties to use the same items throughout the day without distracting each other when crossing zones to borrow this-or-that.
Temporarily delete apps that distract
If you’re tempted to check non-essential apps on your phone, consider deleting them during the work day, and reinstalling them after you’ve “clocked out”.
Clock out
Just like clocking in, a clocking out routine can be useful for maintaining a live/work divide. Stow office items until the next work day, freeing up your home for personal activities and family time.
The night before, set up an activity for your kid(s) for the morning
If you’re feeling like the mornings are too hectic, analyze why. Do your kids need something to keep them safely occupied while you go about your self care routine and/or prepping your workspace? Perhaps plan and set up an activity for the morning that will keep them happy so you can stick to your schedule.
Prep Meals
If you find yourself hanging out in the kitchen more than you normally do, perhaps prep your meals and snacks in advance. This can prevent wasted time, and while potentially encouraging a healthier diet since we all need to keep our immune systems in check while this virus circulates through our communities. Not only that, but preparing food in advance is a wise way to ration food within your household, limiting possible exposure from potentially avoidable grocery shopping trips and/or deliveries.
Remember: We’re all in it together. You’ve got this.
Select photos by Lucia Doynel.
New Mini Consultations
In recent months, dozens of folks have reached out to me to express their frustrations over being unable to find a comfortable rhythm while working, educating and juggling life from their small spaces around the clock during this pandemic.
It’s tough, my friends— there’s no way around that. Still, working from home is a privilege we need to acknowledge and make the most of.
So in response, I’ve been offering weekly Q&A sessions on my social media channels. They’re hugely time consuming, but I tackle them as often as I can with the intention of providing some support to our online community in this unique time.
Since there’s no one-size-fits-all answer to each question, I’ve also launched a new mini consultation service, which can be accessed here.
Via this service, I’m now available to offer video replies to questions that are personalized to specific spaces and situations, such as:
What are some ways I can adjust my particular small space to accommodate a baby? (Snap and send a photo and I’ll take a look and offer my feedback.)
How do I minimize clutter in this specific area of my home? (Snap and send a photo and I’ll take a look and provide suggestions.)
How can I make my rental space look/feel bigger on a budget?
My hope is that this provides readers with some useful assistance in a difficult time, while also supporting our small home and business.
Select photos by TinyLicious.