Living in a Small Space

Whenever I am in the Old World I’m always impressed by how much simpler people’s homes are. The socialist in me is filled with admiration that middle income people like me are quite happy with kitchens the size of my refrigerator and bathrooms that require you to tuck your tummy in and keep your arms pinned to your body. As I crabwalk from the kitchen to the living room of one of these homes I get huge pangs of guilt about complaining about my dining room in Santa Barbara that won’t comfortably seat 20 people. “We need to extend or get a new house,” I whine after hosting a large dinner party. Daryl’s response is, “You know, we can double the size of our house if we convert our garage and build on top of it.” I give him a disgusted look, followed by a self-righteous lecture on the importance of living simply and reducing our carbon footprints. And thus ends the discussion on an expanded dining room until the next dinner party.
When I’m in England or Italy or France I’m filled with admiration at how families with teenage kids (who, as we know are twice as big as adults and take up six times more space) can happily live in homes a fraction the size of mine. My admiration for these folks has trebled since I started living in a London flat.

I find I spend a large amount of time either making things fit into small spaces, or getting things out of crammed cabinets. The refrigerator is the biggest challenge. Come back with two items from the grocery store and you will have to rearrange the entire fridge to make room for them. Then, when you need milk for a cup of tea that you think you deserve after getting all your groceries packed, you have to choreograph a series of steps to accomplish this. First, there is the matter of opening the fridge door. No, it isn’t as simple as pulling a handle. You have to close the kitchen door, push out the mop and pail standing on the floor beside the fridge, then hold your hands in readiness for things that might/will tumble out as you eagerly pull the knob. It’s important that you prepare to catch falling items in such a way that your elbows don’t touch the spatulas and ladles hanging on the adjacent wall. Next is the matter of pushing back falling items and locating the milk. It ought to be standing up on a door rack, but being “Americans”, we buy milk in large containers. These containers don’t fit on the door rack of a tiny fridge. When said milk is located you’ll have to remove all the items around the milk, etc., etc., … you get the idea. Finally, be as quick as you can with the milk before someone else notices the vacant space in the fridge.

When I sit down on the well worn couch upon which many weary bottoms have rested, and sip that cup of strong, hot, milky tea, I savor every drop. There’s something more real about living in a way where you have to think about every move you make. You feel more a part of the world and you are reminded every moment of your impact on it.