Building Gypsy RoseQuiet Legacies
My grandfather never knew a mortgage payment. He lived in the same house from the time he was nine years old until he died at age 92. His was a simple life. He worked for a modest income, but his needs were few. His garden was the source of much of his food and the measure for many around town. He rarely traveled beyond the village borders.
My grandfather was a wise man, but I didn’t understand that in my youth. What I did understand was that our society had evolved to the point where the wisdom of our elders played an ever-diminishing role. Today’s corporate culture values youthful energy and the obsessive drive to continuously learn and produce anew. Old skills have little worth and yesterday’s technology lies in the scrapheap. In my late teens, I left my home state of Vermont with the belief that opportunity lay elsewhere. I set out to make a mark in the world, but a decade later I returned and, over time, began to look at the small town culture and its inhabitants through a new lens.
Today, I find myself spending more and more time thinking about my grandfather. His legacy was one of self-reliance, family, and personal integrity. His was a value that cannot be assigned with a price tag in the marketplace. My grandfather did not have money to pass on after his death. My inheritance is the memory of a man who indelibly touched my life in ways that I am just now beginning to understand.
There was once a time when I considered my rural background and generalist skills of lesser value than those of the corporate climbers. I wanted to become an expert, too. In what, I didn’t know.
Long ago I put any grandiose “career” aspirations behind me. I now long to be more like my grandfather. Perhaps it is because I’ve come to understand the fallacies that lured our culture through the twentieth century. Basic skills that had previously been passed from generation to generation have been lost in much of the population. The relationship between the experienced elder or master craftsman and the youthful apprentice has given way to the teen teaching mom and dad how to set up email on the home computer. I often ask, what will my children inherit from me?
A couple of years ago I was talking with my older son about the importance of being able to create something with my own hands, fix something that breaks, or grow my own food. I was saddened by his response when he exclaimed, “Dad, those aren’t things we need to know. Those are things we pay people to do for us.”
As devastating as his remark seemed at the time, I know that I can’t impose my understanding of the world on him. His reality is much different than mine. Someday, perhaps, David will look back at the host of influential people in his life. He may be as surprised as I was when he discovers how and from where the lasting impressions were formed.
While tending the fire in my little front-yard sugarin’ evaporator recently, I learned that the man I’d written of in late February, the farmer with the sugarhouse next to my childhood home, had passed away on March 10th. My sister wrote to me and said, “Seems appropriate that he went during sugaring season…”
In my reply, I told Melanie that I’d boil a batch of syrup for Howard and that I’d been thinking about the lasting impressions that have come from people I never would have expected.
Melanie wrote back, “It’s most easy for me to believe that people do live on forever … in the lives of the people they impacted when they were alive and then in an everlasting cascade of the people they each impact.”
Hmm. How is it that I failed to notice that my youngest sister had become so wise?
Comments
Kevin - thank you for both this most recent thoughtful post, and for sharing your experience of building Gypsy. I came upon your blog while caring for my father over the past few months, and have been very inspired by what you and Marion have created. Time to start building my own tiny rolling home !
Posted by: Jeremy Lutes | March 30, 2009 10:02 PM
Beautiful Kevin, thank you. It's good knowing you're out there thinking these wise thoughts. Thanks for being a continuing inspiration!
Posted by: Mandy | March 30, 2009 10:16 PM
IF, things ever got really bad (depression) ... and the ability to pay others to do things, disappears ... how do you grow a garden? How do you fix things yourself? How to fix a shelter of your own (other than a tent city)? All of those generalist skills suddenly give options and opportunities.
Posted by: Freth | March 31, 2009 08:51 AM
Hi Kevin,
I'm actually replying to your reply to me on Small Living Journal about what kinds of articles could be written with respect to building tiny houses (comments were closed before I got back to it).
In short, just about any and all building topics could be helpful in the long run. With a good search system, over time, most of what folks want to know could be accumulated.
Frankly, my wife and I have used your site as a resource (and link to it from our blog for that purpose).
But I don't think I would suggest transporting your articles as is. I'm a bit of writer by, er, rights, and I'd say that for the SLJ it might make sense to have shorter, focused topic pieces - ie, framing, picking a trailer, the propane system...
But you have written so much it seems natural to use quite a lot of it for SLJ.
I've even considered contributing to SLJ myself. Indeed, there really is quite a lot to consider when picking a trailer, so perhaps I'll think more about it...
-Jeff
http://mobilecottage.blogspot.com/
Posted by: Jeff Hemsley | March 31, 2009 02:01 PM
Jeff,
I think that you're right in that any writing for SLJ should be shorter focused articles rather than the step by step documentation of a blog. I'm thinking that there is a need for detailed information on the aspects of small house building that differ from a more mainstream house. It's fairly easy to find info on framing, insulating, siding, etc., but there isn't much out there on how to interface a stick built home with a trailer, for instance. (With Gypsy I had the trailer custom welded but it would be great if you'd like to write a piece for SLJ about your process for selecting a trailer.)
Kevin
Posted by: Kevin | March 31, 2009 07:04 PM
Kevin,
The Gypsy Rose is stunning, she is my dream house come to life!
I've just discovered your blog today, and have had great pleasure reading it. The outcome of all your hard work is a masterpiece in my honest opinion, and I would love to have a similar home built someday.
Posted by: Amanda | April 5, 2009 04:18 PM
Hi Kevin, what a wonderful piece you've written. It's interesting that you use the term 'generalist', it's one I use but haven't heard elsewhere. In fact, when asked what I would like my title to be in my new job that's exactly what I chose.
I've always been one to try and fix things, to learn how to do things myself. It took me many years to realise that academic things weren't my natural forte, and that being in a workshop making and fixing things was much more to my taste.
One of the reasons I've been planning my gradual downsize is precisely so I can have the time to devote to learning some of the skills I'd like to if not master then become proficient at. Things such as welding, blacksmithing etc. Your grandfather sounded like a great man who you were privileged to know and his influence is easily seen in how you've built Gypsy Rose.
I'm finally getting my own build underway and wondered if I might link to your blog where I put links to other people building similar houses.
Regards,
Justin.
Posted by: Justin | April 6, 2009 12:05 PM
I live in New Hampshire and just purchased my trailer to build my tiny house on. I'll be starting construction next weekend. Is it possible for me to stop by your place and look at your tiny house? Do you live in Vermont? You've done a great job building yours and I would love to see it in real life.
Thank you,
Grant McComb
810-280-6547
Hillsboro, NH 03244
Posted by: Grant McComb | April 6, 2009 05:50 PM
Kevin,
Your story about your grandfather resonated with me. Mine was an Italian immigrant born in 1889. He semi-retired in his fifties, and moved my grandma and their three sons down to Florida to live in a very small house close to the sea. He had a garden, built and repaired every thing himself, and lived very simply. He taught me how to live each day and take time for the important things. Now that I am fifty, I am learning the wisdom of his life. I was blessed to have him a large part of my life as he lived to be ninety-nine.
Best Regards,
Daniel
Posted by: Daniel Ambrose | April 8, 2009 10:03 AM
what kind of brakes do you have on the trailer?
Posted by: Gary | April 12, 2009 12:19 AM
Wow, I sure did get behind in responding to comments. Let's see if I can touch on all of the questions in a single post.
Justin: Certainly, feel free to link to the Gypsy Rose blog. It is gratifying to know that there are others who may benefit from my experiences.
Grant: Best of luck with your small home project. We'd love to have you stop by for a visit here in Tunbridge. It may not work until May, however. At the moment we're very busy with the seasonal transition to Raven (our other small home - a 34' sailing sloop) and I'm gearing up for the 2009 business season on Lake Champlain. I can be reached via email at kevinpaddleways.com and we can coordinate a weekend that works.
Daniel: Sounds like you've had a similar inheritance with your grandfather. I hope that our generation is seen in as favorable of a light.
Gary: If you're planning on traveling many miles with the home, electrically controlled brakes might be best, otherwise, if travel will be limited (as with Gypsy), surge brakes will do.
All the best,
Kevin
Posted by: Kevin | April 13, 2009 02:05 PM