I have spent waaaayyyyy more time this week than I would care to admit googling around to find a site that I had had bookmarked on my old computer that died last year. I had found it several years ago quite by accident as I was persuing my interest of tiny houses. I stumbled upon the blog of a woman who had just bought an allotment cottage in Sweden. (If you don't know what an allotment garden is, you can find a bit of a definition here.) This cottage was little more than a glorified shed in size. It had a two burner stove and a table for two and a bed and small sitting room. It didn't look so much like a place one would live all of the time, rather looking like a place you would go to spend an afternoon reading and writing and taking a nap after tending your garden. Something about the pictures of this tiny cottage spoke to me, and I've fallen asleep many a night imagining myself to be napping there.
I have always had a love affair with tiny houses, even before my own house became "tiny" with the addition of so many people and creatures and things. For naps and making art and listening to good music in. A set of keys you could press into the hand of a tired friend who could use a few hours of respite. Lit candles in the windows on a rainy afternoon. A journal ever ready on the table, two bowls and two mugs on the shelf.