I’ve become obsessed with tiny houses lately. Tiny as in less than 300 square feet. I’ve lived in studio apartments that were bigger than that, but for some reason, the allure of a tiny house is growing. They seem so efficient and orderly, the kind of zen-like nook you can seek refuge in – whether that refuge is from your demanding and time-sucking family, or a zombie apocalypse. Continue Reading
In our quest to further downsize so we can travel regularly, yesterday we moved in 100 degree heat. Today I feel shell-shocked as I look around me. For the first time, I’m not sure where to put anything, or even where to begin. Me, the Organizer of All Things, and the one responsible for packing, can’t figure this out.
My brain appears to have seized up, and for some reason, so has our water heater. All I wanted this morning was a strong cup of coffee and a hot shower. I didn’t think that was asking too much.
Baby Boomers who left the city in favor of large parcels of land and big houses are now clambering to downsize and find a sense of community in small towns like mine. As a result, the real estate market here has turned into a feeding frenzy where sellers and buyers—like me—are churning the waters.
Questionable neighborhoods with rickety eyesores and truckloads of junk in the front yard are the chum in these shark-infested real estate waters.
“Please take all of it, I don’t need anything!”
I get lots of calls from women who are ready to ‘downsize’, and have helped hundreds over the last thirty-five years, but never heard the line above until recently. It used to be a different story: “I am keeping most of the jewelry, the children want some of the furniture, and I would never sell my mother’s china or the silver,” but…
These days a wind of change is blowing more property into auction rooms.