I think of my new living space as a bird’s nest perched at the top of a most beautiful tree. It’s small and contained, but so very comfy. I like my little nest, and I’m increasingly drawn towards small spaces, having scaled down from too much house. The paring down was daunting—and sad at times—but ultimately, getting ruthless about de-junking was euphoric and freeing. My mission now is to stay as clutter-free as possible … and mostly, I’m holding up well against the challenge.
The Little Pie and I wrestled with this recently, when we were at our favourite thrifting haunt. Within seconds of walking in, we both spied an old globe and without even exchanging glances, made a mad beeline towards the treasure. He knows my Five Dollar Rule of Thriftiness: it must be a beauty, it must be functional and it’s gotta be no more than five smackers. He cradled the globe, gave it a whirl, and smiled the smile of one who knows that it’s his lucky moment and that he’s arrived just in time: the Thrifting stars were all aligned. And then he sucked in his breath … There was no price tag.
Now, for any of you who practice the art of Thrifty Acquisition, you know there’s some delicate dancing involved in wooing (and, let’s face it, bending the will of) certain sellers. Pulling out a twenty, when you only intend to pay five bucks is bad form—no matter what. And repeatedly low-balling only succeeds in burning your Thrifty bridges. But having a kid with you? Well, it’s a lucky charm nearly every time. Especially one who (thank the mighty Gods of Thrift) remembers to dust off and use his manners. I love my kid, for reasons un-countable. But when we stood at the cash in that tell-all moment, I smiled a whole bunch more when I heard him ask:
Would you take five?
Our glorious five dollar globe left the store with a three dollar wooden cake pedestal and glass dome. My lucky charm and I threw high-fives and squealed all the way back to the nest.
These photos featuring Sandra Foster’s Victorian retreat—a former hunting cabin in the Catskills—underscore my love of small spaces and thrifty finds. I don’t know which aspect thrills me more: that it measures only 9′ x 14′, or that she renovated it entirely by herself—with furnishings—for less than three thousand dollars, every bit of it salvaged. I have a strong hunch that she has her own Five Dollar Rule.
Sandra Foster lost her family home as a teenager and never had a silver spoon. Her dream of a woodland refuge—a tiny studio of her own—was manifested through tenacity, sheer determination and hard work.
It lies across a stream, perched on a steep hill; there is no heat, and still no plumbing—a modest trailer on the land provides her with this. So where’s the “dream” in that? Well, take a peek and see just how magnificent small can be …
photos by: trevor tondro and sandra foster
Are you smitten? And ready to climb the ladder to that loft?! I thought so …
To fall in love just a little bit more, visit Sandra at My Shabby Streamside Studio and soak up a little background with this NY Times article. Enjoy the smallness of it all!
Hello Sandy you are an inspiration !! I thought my home was small but now after seeing what you have done with your fairy tale cabin I realise the potential for my home. Thanks for sharing your dream it is beautiful just like you.
From Lizzie
I love, love, love this post SO much, my friend.
Your story is wonderful, so wonderful!! I’d be squealing and high-fiving right along with you. 
I’m in the process of down-sizing too – well, I will be when I’m feeling better. 
And after the initial emotional tugging, I’m actually getting very excited about it. 
I’m glad you loved this! And I wish you were feeling better. I hope that your little patch of paradise by the stream helps soothe the aches. I’ve downsized to a degree that is downright startling! I became so ruthless about it, that over these past few months of settling in to new digs, when I flash on something I get a pang for, a bit of panic surges when I wonder whether or not I junked it … or if it could be in two of the boxes that still remain unpacked. Not bad, huh? to live with ONLY two “mystery” boxes that read either “fragile”, or the even more ambiguous, “J’s stuff” (that will likely end up in a yard sale, since I seem to be living perfectly well without knowing what’s inside them!). Can’t wait to hear about your de-junking spree!
Jacqueline,
You’re an excellent writer, I’ll read you every week.
Good luck on your journey. I’m happy you can be creative – I had to shelve mine for 15 years.
Thank you so much for your kind comments on my blog!
Tootles,
Sandy @ My Shabby Streamside Studio
http://myshabbystreamsidestudio.blogspot.com/
Sandy, thank you for your support and your most beautiful words! I know how dizzingly-busy you are right now, and it means a lot to me that you’ve squeezed out some time to pop in here! Can’t wait to follow your up-coming adventures. You deserve every bit of the praise that’s come your way!
these are exquisite, somehow reminds me of a jane austen novel.
Ooooh, yes!! So true.
Cozy and refreshing. I can feel the coolness of the sheets on my skin as I stretch out for a nap. Could I live there? Perhaps, but am so drawn to wide open spaces for I would need a place to draw, write love letters, and store all my scrapbooks.
I so understand your need to roam in open, green spaces. A little cabin in the woods would suit me fine though at the end of a day spent roaming. Fortunately, Sandy Foster also has 14 acres — and chickens! Aaaah…