Posted in Travel

Our first time in a tiny home

We’ve driven by tiny home and wondered what it would be like to live in one. By definition, a tiny home is one less than 400 square feet, not including loft areas.

I booked an Airbnb tiny home for this year’s Christmas visit with my son in Texas. We’ve stayed in hotels, four bedroom homes, lakeside condos, converted garage efficiencies, and a loft above a horse barn. Once we saw this listing, we knew we had to try it.

It is, in a word, tiny. This one has a 200 square foot footprint with a lofted sleeping area. That’s smaller than our 18×12 patio room. It’s about the same size as my son’s kitchen/dining area.

When we come to visit, we only sleep in a rental. We spend the rest of the time doing stuff with the family. The reader might ask, “Why not stay with them?” With four children, their home is full, so we don’t mind sleeping down the street or around the corner.

This tiny house is parked in a driveway off an alley behind a two-story suburban home. The backyard and driveway are surrounded by an eight foot wooden fence, providing security and privacy.

The bathroom takes up the back four feet. Standard toilet, decent sized shower, miniature sink, shelves for stuff. water drains into a small septic tank in the yard. The water supply comes from a hose from the house. Lots of pressure for nice hot showers. I’m not sure how they run in electric, but we’ve got plenty for the range, space heaters, and a hair dryer.

Kitchen cabinets line the two sides of the home, with drawers for storage as well as a sink, range, and a mini side-by-side refrigerator-freezer. Dishes and condiments all live on open shelves. The front half of the house has a sofa, stacked storage cubes, and a few stools to sit at a small table. A flat screen TV is mounted a bit too high on the wall above a large window.

When we first walked in, it felt so cramped. But after a few nights we’re getting used to it. The stairs to the loft are tricky, especially in the middle of the night. It’s a good way to use space, but you better be agile.

That’s the whole thing. Bathroom is through the door. Bed is up the stairs.

We’ve read stories of people who lived in tiny homes with children for an entire year. I’m not sure how they do it, unless they have an outdoor sitting area and better built-in storage.

But it’s ok (and cheap) for a few days.

Posted in Travel

A sight for traveling eyes

When we traveled with our children, I would make an airport bingo card to entertain them while we waited in line or at gates. I would think of some of the craziest things someone might wear or carry, and challenge the kids to find those people.

  • A man with a red clown nose
  • Someone in a turban with striped pants
  • Fuzzy slippers
  • Someone with a sharp, pointy nose
  • A woman wearing a tutu

The best part is that we found every single crazy person or outfit we could imagine in the airport! Every single time!

That was twenty-five years ago. Pre 9/11. The things listed above? The rule rather than the exception. the airport is filled with pink and purple hair, tutus, pajamas, dogs and cats, five-inch stiletto heels, thigh high boots, and three-inch long fingernails.

So I was pretty excited when I saw this woman wearing Grinch pajamas on the way to her gate.

Why are airport appearances so different than anywhere else? Why are airports the best place for people watching and photo taking?

Posted in Travel

Everyone was happy

I just spent two nights at Disney World’s Magic Kingdom. Instead of something for Christmas, we took some of our grandchildren somewhere, to Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas, a special nighttime event on select nights in November and December.

It was so much fun, an evening filled with special parades, free cookies and hot chocolate, special shows and fireworks, along with all our favorite Magic Kingdom rides.

One thing really stood out for me: everyone there was happy! Sure, there were lines and waits and thunderstorms. Yet everybody I saw, young and old, was having a great time.

I’ve been to plenty of zoos filled with tired, crying children and grumpy, yelling parents, all wishing they could go home. Frowning shoppers crowd the stores during the most wonderful time of the year. Angry drivers honk and gesture on highways and in parking lots. Airport security, delays, and lines rob us of the joy of travel. Preachers proclaim good news of great joy to rooms full of people who say, “I’ll be glad when this is over.”

What’s makes the difference? I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think it’s because there is always something else besides the lines, the waits, and the storms that grabs your attention.

For example, you’ve got a good spot from which to watch the parade. But it won’t start for another thirty minutes. What’s that smell? Popcorn. And look, there’s a popcorn stand over there. A vendor walks by with Christmas light necklaces and bubbling bubble wands. A wandering musical act starts playing and characters begin dancing and interacting with the crowd. Fireworks from a show on the other side of the park lights up the sky. Families walk by in matching t-shirts or pajamas, wearing cleverly designed mouse ears. Familiar Christmas tunes reach your ears. Suddenly, the lights dim, you look up the street, and the parade has started. That was a quick thirty minutes!

Disney is very good at what they do. While waiting, you cannot see how long the line is. But you catch glimpses of people on that ride and others. The zig-zagging line is never still for long. You’re constantly moving. You hear people on other rides having a good time. There’s always music. Suddenly, it’s your turn to get on the ride.

If you’ve got a long walk to the next ride, you’ll find much to see along the way. At the Christmas party, huge inflatable candy canes signaled free cookies and hot chocolate, cider, or egg nog. Look, a random character over there! Cast members in all kinds of costumes walk by and interact with you. Suddenly, you’re there and it wasn’t as far as you thought.

I know that no one is happy all the time. Life is full of ups and downs. I know there are some who don’t enjoy theme parks. Larger crowds during peak times are challenging. That’s OK. But for a few moments, it was amazing to be in a place where everyone was happy!

Posted in Life, memories, Travel

A blizzard, a phone call, and Florida

Subfreezing temperatures. Flurries in the forecast. Pretty normal February day in Iowa. White piles along the road reminded me of last week’s snow. The gray sky, leafless trees, and bite in the air testified that spring was still far away.

The car heater had barely warmed up when I pulled into the parking lot. After a quick walk inside, I piled my coat, scarf, hat, and gloves on a side chair and turned on my computer. My car, just a few feet away on the other side of my office window, didn’t seem to mind the cold at all.

Not long before lunchtime, the wind blew the first flakes of snow past my window. As I watched, more and more snow fell, and the winter world’s grays and browns succumbed to a coating of white. The wind picked up as the sky suddenly dumped all of it’s snow at once. I couldn’t even see my car as today’s “flurries” matured into a full on blizzard.

My desk phone rang. It was probably my wife, making sure I was okay. I wasn’t planning on driving anywhere anytime soon. But it wasn’t her. It was someone calling me from Florida. They just wanted to ask if I was open to considering a job change and relocating.

To Florida? The Sunshine State? I said, “Sure,” but in my mind I was thinking, “How about I come down today?” Lol. The interview was in April, and we moved there in June.

That was twenty-eight years ago. And you know, I just don’t miss the gray skies, leafless trees, bite in the air, and driving home in a blizzard.

Posted in Life, Travel

The darkest darkness

Photo by David Gabrić on Unsplash

For our autumn getaway, see some color, enjoy some cooler weather trip we found a remote cabin on a hillside in western North Carolina. To get there, we had to drive to the end of a twisty mile-long gravel road, where there was no one else in sight.

Each night I made sure we were back from hiking or small town exploring by dark. The access road was difficult enough in daylight. No way I was going to tackle it at night.

But each evening before bed, I did have to take the dog for one last walk. On one occasion I switched off my flashlight just to see how dark it was. It was dark. It was the darkest darkness I’ve ever experienced. Cloudy skies hid the moon and stars. No far off light from a nearby town reached this area, because there was no nearby town. I couldn’t see the road I was standing on. I couldn’t see the trees around us. I couldn’t see the cabin. It was around the bend. I couldn’t see the white dog at the end of a leash. I couldn’t see anything.

I remember thinking, “If my flashlight quits, I’m not sure how I’ll find my way back.” On subsequent walks, I made sure I had my phone in my pocket for a backup flashlight. Maybe my eyes would have adjusted. Maybe I’d be able to see a little bit. Maybe not.

I remember asking a group of middle school students, “What is the darkest hour of the night?” It was one of the few times they said, “That’s a good question.” It is a good question. Poetic wisdom says it’s always darkest before the dawn. And how do you measure darkness, anyway?

Anyway, the darkness was impressive. Not eerie, not scary, just complete. Where else is it really dark? A cave. A closet. Inside a refrigerator with the door closed. When the power goes out at night. When you shut your eyes at night?

Posted in Travel

One piece of the trail

We finally hiked our first section of the Appalachian Trail. Only 2,188.25 miles to go.

Our November cabin in Franklin, North Carolina was a few mile from the Winding Stair – Siler Bald section of the trail. We didn’t do the whole 4.7 mile trail. With a Westie leading most of the way, we only went a mile and three quarters. A 3-1/2 mile hike made for a great fall afternoon.

The trailhead is on a highway that connects Asheville and Murphy. One you cross the highway, the trail leads through dense rhododendrons, across a trickle of water, to the start of a long uphill hike.

It’s not an especially steep grade, just steady. Most of the leaves had fallen, so I could see hundreds of yards in every direction through the trees. The only color left was the deep reds of oak trees. The leaf-covered trail is well-marked by white rectangles on successive trees.

We took our first break at Moore campground, and then went another 3/4 mile where we decided to head back downhill. From there we could see Siler Bald, another 500 feet up, where the view would be amazing. Of course we shared our water, oranges, and bars with the dog.

We only passed one other hiker the whole day. A solo hike was coming down the hill as we worked our way up. With two hiking poles, he looked like he knew what he was doing.

It’s actually harder going down. It’s tougher on the knees, and I had to pay closer attention to my steps. You can’t see all the stones and roots on the trail when it’s covered by leaves. I’m happy to report that we didn’t have anyone stumbles that day.

Without a dog in tow, we might have done the whole section. I don’t know if we’ll do the whole thing, but I’m looking forward to hiking more parts of the AT.

Posted in Travel

My favorite cabin so far

I stumbled across this cabin by filtering my Franklin, NC Airbnb search to less than $100. We’ve stayed in other “cabins” in western North Carolina, but this one is an actual cabin out in the middle of nowhere (actually in the Nantahala forest). The cabin is so remote you can’t use GPS to find it.

After a day-long drive, we got to the road to the cabin before dark. It’s a good thing we did. The mile-long driveway was steep and twisty, cut into the hillside, covered with leaves and bordered by a steep drop off. It would have been ten times harder to navigate in the dark. The first time up the hill we kept wondering, “Is this the road?” “Is this a road?” Thankfully the cabin came into view.

Previous fall destination cabins were houses in communities surrounded by woods and farms. This cabin is made from logs chinked with cement. The front porch roof is supported and fenced with tree trunks. The sleeping loft appears to be a homemade addition accessed by very steep stairs.

Of course, like most short term rental cabins, the rustic structure is furnished with many conveniences. There is a gas furnace for cooler weather, an electric range, a refrigerator, a microwave, an outdoor gas grill, a dishwasher, and a satellite dish for TV and internet. A portable AC unit and fans keep things cooler in the summertime. So you’re not really roughing it, but you feel like you are.

The front porch is lined with rocking chairs. Facing west, it’s a great place to watch the sunset over the mountains. Or you go up the hill out back to a fire pit area and look out over the valley.

The inside is furnished with a mix of antiques, mementoes, pottery, pictures, and contemporary furniture. I’ve founds games, books, toys, and puzzles in every nook and cranny. As I mentioned yesterday, there is an upright piano, painted white, in the main room. And a fold out sofa bed. I loved finding a cast iron pan to cook with along with two old-fashioned hand turn egg beaters in the kitchen drawers. The upstairs bed is smaller and squeakier than home, but so far we’ve slept great.

I’ve run across two memorial rocks engraved with birth and death dates. I’m thinking husband and father. Before they started renting it out, I’ll bet they burned wood in the fireplace. They still have lots of split logs piled up under the porch, long since retired by the current gas logs. I’ll have to message my host to find out more about the history.

I’m surprised to see so little wildlife. All I’ve seen is a few squirrels and birds. No bears. Maybe they’re already hibernating. No deer, either. They’re good at hiding.

I’ll bet not too many guests come in snowy weather, since you’d need a 4×4 to get up here.

It’s quiet, peaceful, comfortable, simple, and relaxing. We’re only minutes from friends, great hiking, quaint downtowns, coffee shops, breweries, and antique shops. Perfect for us.

Yes, this is the road

Posted in Travel

I’m sorry, you’re at the wrong hotel

On our last return trip from Dallas, we stopped for the night in Pensacola, FL after a full day of driving. I had a reservation at the Fairfield Inn and Suites just off I-10.

The sun was setting as I pulled into the parking lot and walked through the front door to check in. I was immediately greeted by a bubbly, cheerful woman at the front desk. I said, “I’ve got a reservation for the night” as I handed her my drivers license and credit card.

After she tapped on her computer keyboard a few times, she said, “Well, we don’t have you in our system, but I’ll bet your room is at the other Fairfield Inn and Suites just off I-10 in Pensacola.” She called to confirm our reservation, and I drove a few miles back to the correct location. There are two? Well, that’s confusing.

The reception at this hotel was much different. The building looked brand new and I could tell that crews were still working on the landscaping. I walked into a very nice lobby, only to find no one at the front desk. I waited for a few moments, and then started to look around. Past a display of snacks, through two doorways, I saw a woman on the phone, typing as she talked to someone. I waited a few minutes, hoping she would notice me, but she never looked up. I walked a little closer and said, “Hi!” a few times. Nothing.

Finally, the woman happened to look up, and was startled to see me. After she shuffled some papers around, she came out to check me in. She said, “Sorry, I’m deaf.” I felt bad as she explained, “I can only hear in one ear.” She was kind and checked me in, explaining that she was filling out an incident report, she was ADHD, and breakfast was from 6:30 to 9:30 in the morning.

It must be tough working the front desk all by yourself in the evening. And I’ll bet the person on duty is expected to handle a variety of tasks for not a whole lot of pay.

We had a good night and a good breakfast before we hit the road for home.

Posted in Travel

More pumpkins, with a splash (of color)

Today’s adventure took the grandkids and us to the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Gardens. We’ve been there before. But this is pumpkin season, and that means thousands of pumpkins and gourds will join the gorgeous flower gardens throughout the park.

The day lived up to every expectation. After a long summer growing season, every flower bed was overflowing with color. Gorgeous purple chrysanthemums sat among beds of star pentas, canna lilies, golden shrimp plants, multi-hued crotons. Long lines of pumpkins and gourds ran along every walking path, leading us to the Pumpkin Village.

Pumpkin village was a community of houses made out of pumpkins amid piles and plies of pumpkins where kids could run, climb, and pose for endless pictures. At the center of it all was the Great Pumpkin. Most of the kids there had no clue what the Great Pumpkin is, but they certainly loved the giant-est of all the pumpkins.

The arboretum was full of field trip groups, senior center outings, strollers full of babies, and so many folks slowly wandering through the amazing paths, ponds, and gardens. Just like them, I would so spend a day here each week, watching seasons pass, the visitors to the gardens, and the vibrant palette of color.

Of course, with each step part of me wonders, “How come my flower beds don’t look like this?” I know, I don’t invest the same resources into my gardens. And I don’t have much of a staff to help me out. But a day here inspires me to plant, fertilize, and enjoy my own gardens a little it more.