Showing posts with label consumerism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label consumerism. Show all posts

Saturday, June 25, 2016

The benefits of living in a small space

As I mentioned to a friend on Instagram this morning, moving into our tiny space has involved a steep learning curve - not so much in terms of figuring out sewer/water/electric hookups or deciding where to travel, but very much so in terms of learning to live together in the smallest place we've ever owned.

Three humans and one cat cohabitating in a relatively modest-sized RV can be fraught with challenges, like when the dishes pile up (happens quickly, and can make the kitchen feel chaotic), or when someone's in a less-than-happy mood and doesn't feel like hanging out with family members, or when I reallllly want to get my yoga workout in but have to wait until Trent and Sam are off at the pool for an hour.

When the slide-out is out, this is where I do my workout. Right next to the kitty litter. Ommmm....

But! Even though it's frustrating sometimes, I see multiple benefits to living together in this little home:

1. We can keep only what we really need and/or want. There's simply no room for extraneous things we won't use or can't appreciate, so we carefully consider every single item we bring into our space. We did this before we moved in, but - because it was difficult to predict what we would actually use - we continue to evaluate our belongings. For example, the pretty serving tray that I carefully stowed into a cabinet for Pinterest-worthy dinner picnics is proving to be worthless, so it's not going to stick around. It needs to give up its home for something that we will actually utilize. 

Along the same lines, until we started preparing for RV life, I didn't realize how much random crap people are constantly trying to pass on to one another, such as the little towels that our campground gave us as a "welcome present" (they're not large enough to dry off with and not absorbent enough to dry dishes with), or the mini-frisbees and beer koozies available as "gifts" in the activity center this morning. It's tempting to take and keep these, but we don't need them and ultimately they're just going to serve as dust-catchers. Not worth it. MUST. RESIST. FREE. STUFF.

2. We have a better appreciation for what we do have. This sounds silly, but every morning I look at my coffee pot and think, "Man, I love this thing." I like its design, I like how easy it is to clean, and I like that it produces my favorite caffeinated beverage. I look at it and I appreciate it, whereas before this journey, I owned a lot of things that I walked by every single day and barely even noticed, much less acknowledged.

Coffee pot and rooster mug: Key players in my morning ritual

3. It's easy to clean and organize. Sam - the most organized person in our family - will tell you that I have a lot of opportunity for growth here, but overall I think we do a good job of keeping Clark tidy. And because Clark is small, it really doesn't take all that much time and effort. We can go from kitchen disaster zone to Instagram-worthy countertops in a matter of minutes. (Not saying that lasts long, but whatever.)

Post-breakfast is always messy, but it takes minutes to clean it up.

4. A small space requires less energy to heat and cool than a traditional home. It's hot here in Texas, so yes, we have our fan or A/C on most of the time. That said, it doesn't take much to cool the place down. Of course, our goal is to eventually "follow the weather" and get solar panels so that we can further minimize the use of fossil fuels for heating and cooling. At the very least, we're more aware now of what it takes to bring our space to a comfortable temperature. It encourages us to think about the resources and processes required.

5. We're forced to deal with interpersonal issues right away. This is a tough one even for a family that generally gets along. Sometimes our RV is like a pressure cooker! Things I've been trying to work on: not getting bent out of shape about the way Trent does the dishes (yes, I realize I'm crazy), being more patient when I need space but can't have it immediately, and talking through problems as they happen instead of letting the issues build up. This was my idea, and yet of anyone in the family, I'm the one who is most attached to the concept of a personal bubble. That part is tough for me, and I'm figuring out how to navigate that particular issue. So... yeah. Definitely a learning experience. 


6. I get to spend more time with my family. I love that. Sometimes it's really nice to hang out for hours in the same tiny room with them. As I write this, Sam is sitting across from me with a pad of paper, a ruler, and a pencil, designing a new hotel for his Minecraft world. I type, he draws, and we share ideas as we go. That kind of experience makes this wild journey totally worth it.

Saturday, May 21, 2016

The kitchen gear not voted off the RV island

We've made amazing progress in reducing the amount of STUFF we own and identifying what we want to take with us. Today it was all about the kitchen gear.

Here's a rundown of what we decided to take with us on the road:

1. Utensils: Four regular knives, four forks (one currently in use), four spoons, two serving spoons.


2. Knives: We like to cook, so these are important.


3. Dinnerware: Three plastic bowls, four plastic plates, four small bamboo plates, one small bamboo cereal bowl.


4. Pour-over coffee maker: We had a press pot, but cleaning it is messy. On our last shakedown RV trip, I managed to spray a full cup of soggy grounds all over the interior of our rig. This coffee maker is much easier to wash.


5. Variety of necessary kitchen paraphernalia: Stirring spoons, measuring spoons, measuring cups, bottle opener, bag clips, grater, peeler, spatula, etc.


6. Mugs and cups: So far we've got it narrowed down to four ceramic mugs, two plastic camp mugs, one beer glass, and three juice glasses. This is a small percentage of the glassware we previously owned. We need to make another cut here, but for some reason I'm having trouble letting go. Of drinking glasses. Yeah. 


7. Pyrex measuring cup: I think we've had this since we got married. It's awesome for measuring liquids as well as heating up water in the microwave. It's coming with us.


8. Pots and pans: One wooden salad bowl, one plastic mixing bowl (with handy gripper base), Pampered Chef mixing bowl (I can't part with it - I use it almost every day), saucepan, 8 x 8 glass pan.


9. Instant Pot: This thing is amazing. Every 5-star review you've seen is totally justified. Beans go from dried to fully cooked in less than 30 minutes, and it has a crockpot mode for soups and stews.


10. Our beloved, grimy toaster oven: We really thought about giving this away, but we use it all the time. We make toast in it, bake bread in it, and roast vegetables in it. We'll house it in one of the storage bays, pull it out when we're in camp, and use it as part of our outdoor kitchen.


Going through our belongings to figure out what we need to take, what we want to take, what's easy to let go of, and what we find ourselves attached to has been an interesting and informative experience in itself. What does it say about me that I have a death grip on a coffee mug? (Although come to think of it, maybe that's not too surprising...) What does it mean when we are desperate to sell things we thought we just HAD to have when we purchased them? Should we be giving out plastic- and candy-filled goodie bags at the end of every child's birthday party? (Answer from someone who just spent an hour tossing these foot-piercing pieces of cheap crap: NO! STOP WITH THE GOODIE BAGS.)

One thing I've realized is that I want to become a more thoughtful consumer. I want to spend more time weighing the pros and cons of my purchases - not only in terms of cost, but also in terms of space, emotional aspects, environmental effects, and social impact. Am I buying things because I truly need them or because I want to keep up with the latest trends I see on Instagram, Pinterest, and HGTV? Are the things I'm buying worth the price and the space? What is the cost of disposing of something that looks kind of ugly but that is still completely usable?