Dee Williams (2)

I was able to relate 100% to the author's upbringing, values, and quest to find contentment in the simple life. She tells us of trips to Mr Plywood with her father. For me and my dad it was father/daughter bonding at 84 Lumber. And if you ever misplaced Dad, you only had to cruise by the tool department of Sears and there he was, admiring some new what-have-you that he did not yet own. As a consequence, I also know my way around a toolbox and could function as a card-carrying member of the show more "flannel shirt" club. I did not have a brother, who, having slept too crumpled one night, declared that his "ass crack was on backwards," but my dad did invent a new language that summer that we built a harpsichord from a kit. The blueprint for placement of drilling the hitch pins and bridge pins did not fit the cabinet! I did not glue my ponytail to the side of building which resulted in a frantic swashbucklerama of scissors and "Friar Tuck" hair-do. This caused my husband to rush into my office upon hearing bark of laughter number 32, to see if I had had a seizure. Her description of the comedy of errors involved in taking care of elderly relatives was right on. I have always suspected that most women wear an invisible Wonder Woman costume underneath their clothing. This author wears hers to bed. And forgets that she has them on... when the fire department shows up. When in the hospital due to failing heart drama, her friend tries to simulate a "happy place" by enthusiastically tap dancing with gusto till they both lighten up. It's real life folks, the ups and downs, the joy and sorrow, and it is universal. The writing style is admirable and entertaining. It will read like you are flying at warp 9. My thanks to the author and the Penguin Firsts to Read program for complimentary early release copy. show less

Building a house 8.5 feet by 13.5 feet on a utility trailer doesn’t sound like a major accomplishment. That is until you learn that an individual, not a factory, did so and lives there year round, all the time. Oh, and the builder is a woman, 40ish, with a rhythmically challenged heart and more zest for life than many toddlers. Dee Williams’ story is about building her home and the transitions in life we all confront, and so, oh so much, more.

It is a narrative of living beyond the show more limits, letting go, waking up courage that seems to nap more often than not as we wave thirty good-bye, and reaching for what could be better, if we make it so. She is inspirational, motivational and grounded in some basics of nature none of us escape, facts are facts, regardless of our age, income or the size of our dwellings. Her writing feels like you’re sitting on the stoop of her Big Tiny Home listening to a story she’d rather someone else told but since you asked and remembered to bring snacks and beer....

So first, she gently warns you: “Learning new things doesn’t always liberate you. Instead, it makes you wonder if your pants are on backward or the trees are holding the sky up—it makes you question all of your assumptions and conventions.”

And then she earnestly comforts you: “But the facts are the facts: I found a certain bigness in my little house—a sense of largeness, freedom, and happiness that comes when you see there’s no place else you’d rather be.”

For me, the thought of more with less is not new. I raised and homeschooled six children in 980 square feet on a part time admin’s pay, debt free except for the land payment. I don’t really plan to build my own tiny house, though I do plan to modify a shed and live with everything in reach once the nest is empty. We have often joked about having our own little sheds surrounding a kitchen and family room that we share. If the economy continues to bob around like leaves in the creek, it may not be a joke.

So, I approached this book with eagerness, ready to hear another woman’s story. I was not disappointed in the gentle narrative of living big without the weight of stuff, finding there is peace in the silence and yes, a bit of fear too. Ms. Williams gives you enough to draw you in and leave you hungering for more, but she’s careful to make sure it’s *your* more, not hers and that is a difficult thing to do when you live an enthusiastic life. Her genuine humility prevents this from becoming a Diatribe of How To or else the universe will devolve into a vortex of sorrow. It is more of a Spiritual Treatise that assures you it is not only the especially awesome that could do something like this … you could, if you want.

Along the way, she tells you of her life, her wonderful friends, the world as she experiences it, the family that loves her, even on her bad hair days, and how needing to poop is really the great equalizer. She works, she shops; she loves, grieves and rejoices, fusses over cinnamon then helps her neighbors. Nothing odd about any of that, aside from the fact she dwells in what our society calls a tiny house and is brave enough to share how she journeyed from a three bedroom bungalow to 300 days a year of happiness. The other 65 are days where friends, family and co-workers nod and make sympathetic noises because everyone has Those Days.

I gobbled this book in a few hours. I’m a ferocious reader. I will consume it again and again because it’s that kind of book, little nuggets to ponder while the mosquitoes gnaw on you and then are gnawed on by the frogs and bats. Even if you live in a mansion, and never plan to do less, I believe there’s something in this book for you too. A reminder that where we dwell can be part of our self-definition, but it is only a fraction of all we are, can be, maybe should be. It really is more about what we do with the other slices of ourselves that is infinitely more important. Dee Williams affirms that, respectfully and with exuberance that is most probably contagious.

You can find out more about Dee Williams Big Tiny House at PAD Tiny Houses. There are photos and YouTubies there as well as additional information about building your own tiny house.

I received a copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. You can read more of my reviews at PageTraveler blogspot dot come show less

I wanted to like this more, and in general I can get behind the message that laughing your ass off is better than anything in the world, but. This is more of a book about how Dee discovers that cohousing and intentional community are the thing she values more than anything in the world, rather than a book about self-sufficiency in a tiny house. That's great, just not what I expected. And on the whole, she has a interesting journey and I'm glad to have read about it. I have two major beefs show more with it. One -- the consistent internal fighting about gender roles (man-hands, not being feminine because you want to build things, being a tiny person, a blonde, who is building your own house, how revolutionary!) and after a while that got really old. I expect that she hears that kind of thing from people around her all the time, and probably it gets old to her as well.

Secondarily, she built a tiny house with no running water; sold her regular house that she was living in with roommates; and then proceeds to live in a backyard where she goes in to one of the duplexes to use the shower/water/tv/electricity almost every day. Uh. It's like someone telling you earnestly that they want to make the world a better place by not owning a car, and then they proceed to ask you to drive them everywhere. I legit don't understand how the tiny house lifestyle is better, except that she's found someone else to pay the mortgage on the land so that she doesn't have to work as much. That message is really messed up.

I totally agree, by the way, that co-housing is awesome. That caring for our elders and getting to know the neighbor kids is amazing. That we all work too damn much of our lives away and that we should all have part-time jobs and the leisure to do things that matter to us, I just feel like this became how Dee gets the dream because everyone around her is willing to finance it and it just got weird over time. Clearly, she works her ass off, and is using her free time to help everyone around her, or they wouldn't put up with that nonsense, but I still found it confusing.

Oh, and why are you doing a building project in flip flops? That's just dumb. Buy some damn sneakers, or better yet, steel-toed boots. They make them for ladies, too. Having all your toes at the end of the day is a nice thing, and I bet you can fit a pair on your porch. show less

If you've ever paused in the aisle at Target with a cart full of "essentials" and wished life were simpler, then walking in Dee William's shoes for a few hundred pages may give you much-needed insight into the world of having less but feeling more. In an authentic, not-overly-edited voice, she shares her story of downsizing and challenging herself to live in a tiny home, small enough that -- to comply with building codes -- it fits on a trailer bed. As she builds her home from scratch and show more sheds possessions, she discovers a new kind of living that is at once more communal and more solitary. A meditation on simplification as a pathway to appreciation, this memoir will be appreciated by those who tinker and build -- or just wish they did. Recommended. (88) show less