Pardon the slight delay in my usual weekly posting schedule. Why? Keep reading.

Am I actually doing this? Yes. I guess I am. I am buying a tiny house to live in. This might sound like an experiment, and it is, but it is also a choice made for good, and maybe not-so-obvious reasons. But hey, why be normal?

Regular readers have probably already read between the lines that I might have to move. Have to? Decided to. If my finances don’t improve, I’d have to sell my house within about a year or two. That assumes nothing breaks in the meantime. I actually think my personal finances will improve, but there are no guarantees. Betting on hope is not a strategy, and may not even be defineable as a tactic. As Sun Tzu is said to have said, “Only move when it is to your advantage. Then, move.” (Paraphrased, variously translated, with a possibly fictional author – but a good idea anyway.)

My house, my home since 2007, is considered small by many. 868 square feet.

Pardon. Paperwork just electronically arrived.

Read. Read. Read. Oops. Call broker. Fix. Wait. Type in the meantime.

868 square feet. My smallest house ever. My favorite house that has been my favorite home. Easiest to clean. Easiest to maintain. So big that I left one room empty as a gym. And still big enough to lose my cell phone in, and find it by calling it from my landline.

And yet, finding time to treat it with proper respect and spend time giving my business and writing proper respect means that – well – there’s an entire set of windows I rarely clean.

Worrying about every little thing is partly my engineering heritage. It is also unhealthy when layered on my challenges from the last 14 years. (Read this blog for details, and possibly Too Much Information.) My treatment of my anxieties is improving, and may improve even more by literally distancing myself from some.

One anxiety that I can dramatically reduce is debt and monthly expenses. No debt. Ah. That sounds nice. See my post (Move From Whidbey Over 1700) for some background. Smaller house. Smaller bills. Smaller worries. If I was buying the tiny for cash, that would be best. Unfortunately, I have to sell my home to produce the cash to pay for the tiny. Contingent offers happen. But, will they accept it?

Ah, the revised paperwork arrives.

And, I’ve signed the paperwork, electronically (on forms that are vertical because they are designed to be printed, but must be read on horizontal computer screens that flip past the pages as signatures are made.) My offer is submitted.

I hope we filled out the forms right.

Drumroll for an emotional ride between now and either closing or more negotiations.

But in the meantime, I type because it is better than filling the waiting with wondering.

As I mentioned, my previous posts can prove that I’ve been considering a move for over a year. That’s not new. Where I live is my home, but I almost lost it about a decade ago. Before that I bought and sold a few of my residences over the decades. For a few years I was a realtor and helped dozens buy and sell theirs. A home is wonderful, but I recognize that sometimes it is time to move to another one.

I also frequently quipped that “every house is for sale, but deciding on the right price is the main question.” I actually thought of asking the For Sale sign installer to leave the post up just in case I wanted to sell quickly. Just kidding, but also somewhat serious. Months ago, I received three unsolicited offers for my home, all in one day. One was a robocall. One was a conventional cold call. One was a neighbor who knocked on the door and wanted to tour the house because she wanted to buy it. Maybe the universe put up a For Sale sign and didn’t tell me.

As I’ve shopped for houses, I became more aware of how much I own a home, not just a house. Seeing others made me appreciate what I had and still have. Nothing is perfect, but the style is just about right, the view is great even though I complain about the power lines, my neighbors are in that small crowd of the best I’ve lived beside. Whidbey is nice enough that I produced a ten-year photo essay of it. Island culture is unlike The Big City, somewhat like a rural small town, and a diverse mix of people who have similar attitudes about passion and living a lifestyle that may not find a home otherwise.

But anxieties, an increased cost of living, and other friends moving off the island suggest change will be a good thing.

If they accept my offer, which relies on finding enough cash, which requires some life choices or winning a cashpot or jackpot, and can rely on someone possibly buying my home to turn into their house under mutually agreeable conditions.

If. If. If.

So, some short-term anxieties to retire some long-term anxieties.

As you can tell, I’ve been typing this post as papers and conversations are electronically being passed around. Why wait for the end before chronicling the story? Here’s where my head has been.

I alluded to the temporary nature of living in any house/home. A tiny house won’t change that. It is easier to try something for two years when young, but doing so at 65 is doable, too. While shopping, I’ve found several possibilities, but making them work financially and physically currently was amping my anxieties. I still have a goal of a more sustainable situation. This tiny house doesn’t meet all of those criteria, but it meets enough of them to encourage me to take this intermediate step from which I can stabilize my finances, critically evaluate what I want and need (and dream), get to know a new area by spending time there, and then make that big move.

Nothing is permanent. Everything is temporary. And there are times when it is good to experiment.

I pause as they consider replying and I sleep.

Next day.

Patience, lad.

Dinner. Dishes. And a document to sign. Skip the details. We are now ‘mutual’ which means, assuming some unresolved details resolve well enough, I will own a tiny home.

That night.

So much to celebrate and so many requirements to meet that migraines arrive. Good news isn’t always stress-free, at least temporarily.

Next day.

One detail is about as big as most life events get: selling my home.

Start the final cleaning and clearing prior to the public walking through my house. Make it look pretty, and put the precious things away. Oh yeah, and cook days worth of meals because showings may make cooking impractical. Details. Details.

Continue eating my way through my pantry. The more I eat, the less there is to pack and move, and the less money and time I spend because this is looking like a very busy time.

Selling my home – but not telling anyone yet because it may not be proper to advertise a house is for sale before it is officially on the market with a sign in the yard.

Patience, lad. Wait for Easter and a day or two, which is not eaten up by eating chocolate Easter bunnies, but is eaten up by cleaning, decluttering, packing the house, oh yeah, and signing lots of listing documents.

And taking an evening off because the process of selling can eat up a person.

Next day.

Everything signed? Neighbors are guessing – and guessing as well as many realtors.

Last runs to recycle and trash.

Oh, and by the way, continue with normal life including filing taxes. (Another story for later.) And producing another manuscript to upload for a semi-secret book project. Now, to find the time for publishing that, too.

Another day? Well, yes, because things don’t happen at midnight. They can happen at noon, or dawn, or dusk, but preferrable before COB, Close Of Business.

And then writing and this blog post.

But every minute of every chore becomes a reflection on how to live a life. Out of debt with cash in hand? Shopping changes. A small flat lot? Mowing just got easier, and does that mean using a push reel mower instead of something with gas or electricity? Making dinner becomes an exercise in adjusting meal planning and storage. No room inside for a chest freezer, so reduce, or shop, or dine out more? What office supplies and records go into storage, and where will I work? Maybe some time in-town, in a library, maybe at a co-works? Every minute, a new self-examination that is usually glossed over daily through habits. Maybe moving is good simply to force a re-evaluation of a life and an opportunity to create new habits.

My Tiny Experiment begins as a new way to live, but also a new blog so my personal finance blog doesn’t get distracted, and my tiny experiment can be properly chronicled. Here we go.

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/M1640056875

PS Want to be my neighbor in Port Townsend? The new tiny house next door just listed too.

https://www.redfin.com/WA/Port-Townsend/6062-Washington-20-98368/unit-8/home/175726990