Visitor to Tiny House

I’ve had a Tiny House visitor. I told her to pretend she was in a cozy cabin tucked into the woods. She responded, I’ll just think about being on an island off of Norway in a cottage. You see, she actually has one.

There, she has no running water and they use an outhouse when visiting. The kindly neighbor offers their facilities for a shower and for them to carry over jugs to fill with water to take back. I’ve seen pictures: there are exposed rocks with ancient runes scraped onto the surface, where they lounge after a swim, sunning themselves. Just like here there are pine trees—though maybe not as tall as the wind scours the island in poor weather and stunts their growth. At one time the only access was by ferry, but now there is an underwater tunnel where cars can cross back and forth.

She got up in the morning and had her coffee looking out the windows. For breakfast we ate from a rustic loaf of bread I’d bought just for the occasion and in the evening we lit tea candles and sat and chatted while darkness gathered outside. Just like in Scandinavia. We took long walks in the snowy woods.

I was happy to offer refuge from her hectic city life.