The Zero Waste Home

This post is part of a series on homes that inspire me, as part of mulling over what my dream house looks like and to help motivate my decluttering. 1: A cob bungalow | 2: The woodsman's cottage | 3: A minimalist cabin | 4: A narrowboat | 5: The tiny appartment | 6: The crafty home | 7: The Burrow

I've not come across a reference to a 'no waste home' before, but the concept is fairly self-explanatory. Bea and her family generate (almost) no waste. This is the total amount of waste thrown in the bin in their house in 2014:

So you may wonder what kind of house they live in, and what their lifestyle looks like. Is it hard work? 

My first thought was of my uncle who, according to family legend, once lived a year without throwing anything away. He just piled the trash under his bed instead. 

So is there home cluttered, chaotic?

Oh no. It's beautifully minimalist. The zero waste mentality also means thinking carefully about everything you bring into your home, and living a very decluttered lifestyle. Bea focuses on five tenets: firstly, refuse things you don't need or which are wasteful, for example free disposable pens. Secondly, reduce what you do use. Thirdly, reuse what you have used before you move on to the fourth step, recycle. Then the rest is rotted down in the compost.

To cut out food packaging, and packaging in general, Bea buys in bulk. And it looks so beautiful.

If you're tempted to have a go at buying bulk, Bea has developed an app (called, logically enough, 'Bulk') which helps you locate and rate shops near you that sell in bulk.

Her archives make for interesting reading, on how she manages to take her zero waste philosophy on holiday with her, and inform her kids on why this matters, and the advantages that down-sizing her home, possessions and consumption have brought.

She's also got a book out, which is definitely going to be in my letter to Santa Claus. You can read an excerpt here. In the meantime, the blog has given me plenty of food for thought. I've started tracking what I throw away in the same way I track my expenses, and on the basis of that I am thinking about how I can reduce my waste.

The Burrow

This post is part of a series on homes that inspire me, as part of mulling over what my dream house looks like and to help motivate my decluttering. 1: A cob bungalow | 2: The woodsman's cottage | 3: A minimalist cabin | 4: A narrowboat | 5: The tiny appartment | 6: The crafty home

I've been listening to the Stephen Fry Harry Potter audiobooks on my walk to and from work. It's actually really good fun, rediscovering nuggets of the stories I had forgotten or missed first time around (I read the first book for the first time about 15 years ago...). Audiobooks are also a good way to savour a book - I tend to skim read, I do it so much at work that it's a habit and it's very difficult for me to read every single word on a page, particularly if I've read the book before. The audiobook helps me slow down and enjoy every image the author conjures.

It's been reminding me of my wonderful, wonderful trip around the world of Harry Potter with my friend Kaylie. Harry Potter is but one of the worlds we have shared together - if I tell you that she is most definitely a kindred spirit and we once discovered Narnia in the snow, that should give you some idea. She took me around the World of Harry Potter and all the sets, and I was very interested to note that the set I was most drawn to is The Burrow, the home of the Weasley family.

It's the opposite of minimalist. It's cluttered and chaotic and bursting with people and activity, but it's so personal. It's a place you would instantly feel at home, slumped in a battered but comfy chair under a hand-knitted blanket with the smell of stew on the stove, a fire in the grate and someone playing a prank on someone else. Far too boisterous for you, but entertaining nonetheless. I would love to live in somewhere like the Burrow - if I had magic to help with the dust, the washing up, the hoovering.

I love the personal touches and souvenirs - drawings on the wall, photos freezing individual moments, finds from forgotten places, and of course the famous clock. I so want a home full of reminders of all the people and places and things that I love. The balance we're trying to strike between minimalist and personal is not - quite - there. You wouldn't know this home was mine, ours - it could easily be someone else's. And I know that there are only two things stopping that - my lack of courage in my own vision, and my lack of discipline for making it come alive.

So, a clip of the Burrow to encourage me to stick my cousin's drawings, my grandmother's photo and my homemade bunting on the walls. (I hope I'm not violating copyright by sharing - if I am please let me know and I'll remove it!)

The crafty home

This post is part of a series on homes that inspire me, as part of mulling over what my dream house looks like and to help motivate gmy declutterin. Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

This home is rather different from the others I've blogged about. It's not an example of small-space living or building your home from scratch, but rather of making a space utterly your own. (Warning: this is quite a picture-heavy post.)

Source: seedsandstitches

Hannah is a professional stylist/design/generally creative person, which is blindingly obvious as soon as you land on her blog. She made the (I think) very brave decision to become a mother at what is now a relatively young age (though as my boyfriend's grandmother likes to remind me, for previous generations having kids in your mid twenties was already late, hint hint hint...). She left the world of steady employment and is now making a career as a freelance writer/styler/generally creative person.

Source: seedsandstitches

Source: seedsandstitches

What I love about these pictures is how an already beautiful space becomes totally alive, thanks to the simple, personal and often seasonal touches she uses. Some of the things I love, some are less my style, many I would never think of in the first place, but she has made her home a space that speaks very warmly of her, her life and her imagination. I am increasingly aware that my home is rather impersonal in some ways - I have all these ideas and never really have the time/discipline/competence/courage to implement them. Hannah's blog is gradually giving me the courage to make some bolder moves in my home.

 Source: seedsandstitches

Source: seedsandstitches

The same space evolves through the year - all the photos below are of the same kitchen table through the seasons:

 Source: seedsandstitches

Source: seedsandstitches

 Source: seedsandstitches

Source: seedsandstitches

Source: seedsandstitches

I love that's both simple and chaotic, colourful and calming, and above all - unpredictable. This is not a home you could pick out of a catalogue, it's been pieced together like a patchwork quilt, with colours and patterns that my brain tells me don't go together while my eyes point out that this is quite evidently not true.

Source: seedsandstitches

Definitely food for thought. Plus she's given me some fabulous ideas for homemade birthday and Christmas gifts.

Pictures from http://seedsandstitches.com/ used by kind permission.

The tiny apartment

This post is part of a series on homes that inspire me, as part of mulling over what my dream house looks like and to help motivate my decluttering. Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

So far, most of the homes I've shared with you have been purpose-built, painstakingly designed and constructed with intention, reflecting the values and practices of the people living in them. Many are designed to make efficient use of limited space, with clever hidden storage.

Today, I am looking at the experiences of a young couple living in a rented city flat. And somehow they've made it so beautiful, I'm looking at the pictures feeling deeply envious at the sense of simplicity they've created.

These experiences are documented in by Erin in her blog - reading my tea leaves - which includes a running list (93 and counting) of survival tips for tiny apartments. I thoroughly recommend taking a dive into the archives of this, I'm finding it very interesting food for thought. There are a few points that have really resonated with me:

Source: readingmytealeaves

White. White everywhere. White walls, white doors, white cupboards, white sheets on the bed. I always used to think white was boring, that I didn't like spaces painted white. Between Erin's flat and Carmella's cabin, I'm realising that white means a calmer, more coherent background against which your best-loved items just sing.

Even cleaning tools should be aesthetically pleasing. This is something of a revelation for me - of course! Why shouldn't you have scrubbing brushes with an elegance and simplicity, instead of a cracked neon yellow plastic monstrosity?

 

Source: readingmytealeaves 

Things are more fixable than you think. I'm embarrassingly nervous about DIY - I've never done it and I'm terrified of doing it wrong, even painting a table would freak me out, but Erin is clearly the kind of person who rolls up her sleeves and gets to work with the screwdriver/paintbrush/etc. This is definitely something I want to challenge myself to have a go at... if only I knew where to start...

Source: readingmytealeaves

And finally - I really need to clean my windows.

Pictures from http://www.readingmytealeaves.com/ used by kind permission.

A minimalist cabin

This post is part of a series on homes that inspire me, as part of mulling over what my dream house looks like. Part One | Part Two

After losing pretty much everything in the economic crash and housing bubble burst, Carmella and her husband found themselves without a home and without jobs. Cue a serious rethink about what they wanted from life and a relocation. But they needed somewhere to live, a transportable habitat (I can't bring myself to refer to this lovely cabin as a 'mobile home') to house themselves and their family.

So they designed a small wooden cabin, just 62 square meters (or 665 sq ft to those of you on Imperial). And somehow - how how how?? - they fit two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a spacious living room with  a kitchen and a dining area. The whole house is wood painted white, it looks so light and spacious, and all the little design touches are so intentional, so beautiful, so much an expression of this family and what they have chosen to bring with them. They've clearly had a difficult journey but they've also clearly built themselves a truly lovely home.

 

Even the end table has a really lovely story of its own. I've always dreamed of living in a home where every single thing has a story to tell, and they are living exactly that. It is possible!! Who knew?

I am so impressed and intrigued by how they manage to use space so effectively, to get so much valuable living area and so much clever storage and room for a family with kids in a space that is smaller than my flat. How much comes down to the design and layout of the space itself, and how much to how you use it? This cabin makes me wonder how much more I could do with the space we have.

They've also brought this in for a very small budget. That kitchen counter? It might look like soapstone but it's plain old plywood, with clever paint treatment. All over the house there are clever tricks and tips that turn normally unused space into functional design features, like the blackboard panel over the electric fuse box, or the specially designed cupboard over the fridge which holds baking trays and tools.

You can read all about their story, and enjoy the gorgeous photographs of their lovely home, on their blog. (If you can't follow the link, it's called Assortment. Google it already.) All photos are from the blog, used by kind permission, and I really urge you to go browse and take a look. The cabin has also just featured on the cover of Country Living, so there are even more lovely photos over there. If you're inspired to build your own house along the same lines, they do even share the plans...

The Woodsman's Cottage

Following on from my post last week on the cob bungalow, I'm sharing another house that evokes a feeling I can only describe as yearning. It genuinely looks like a fairy tale cottage.

Those of you who live/have lived in the UK may be familiar with the tv programme Grand Designs. It's been on the air for a good ten years or so, and it's brilliant. It's about people who are building or renovating their own houses, and the houses are always odd or unusual. Anyone interested in an eco-friendly self-build, I recommend taking some time to watch some of the episodes because there are quite a lot of these - a self-heating home dropped into disused quarries, a house built from local materials around an old tree which forms the centre of the circular stairway, a house built from polystyrene blogs... However weird and wonderful, trust me, there's been one on Grand Designs.

One of the best programmes of this series - and the presenter Kevin McCloud's favourite, apparently - is the house built by a chap called Ben Law. Ben is a woodsman who makes his living by sustainably managing an area of forest. At the beginning of the build, he had been living under canvas in the woods for the best part of a decade. Part of his income comes from charcoal burning so he had to stay onsite to manage the fire risk. It had taken him ages to get planning permission, and in the end it was only granted with a very very unusal condition - Ben is the only person who can legally own the house. He cannot sell it - if he leaves, the house will be torn down.

 Photo: www.ben-law.co.uk

Ben builds the house by hand with the help of volunteers, using traditional building techniques used centuries ago but rarely today. The materials are local - wood from the forest, mud from the pond, strawbales from a local farm. It is entirely off-grid, with electricity generated from a wind turbine, heating from a wood-powered range, and a composting toilet. By the time Kevin goes back to visit some years later, Ben is also growing most of his food.

The magic about this house is that it is a celebration of natural materials, particularly wood, from start to finish. Every piece of wood is individually selected and prepared, and there is a huge range - wood left with the bark on, wood peeled, wood aged and weathered. Different trees, different sizes and ages, different formats. It's beautiful. So go ahead, take a peek, and also check out Ben's website.

Clarifying the goal and a cob bungalow

This is home - for now.

This lovely flat, much as I enjoy living here, it not where we expect to be for the rest of our lives. We regularly discuss our plans for the future, for the next stages of our lives. There's definitely children in there somewhere - how many not yet defined, but even a cursory glance at my boyfriend's family tree suggests the odds are extremely good on having boys - and there's another home.

This flat suits us well for now and has more than enough space. With a second bedroom, we have the luxury of having guests to stay now, and potentially of holding a child or children if and when they come along. It wouldn't hold a family with teenagers, though, and in our heart of hearts we both want something slightly different. Not necessarily bigger, but with a different space distribution. A bigger kitchen, more outdoor space (ideally a garden), and enough bedroom capacity to hold at least four fully grown humans.

What I want to avoid, though, is falling into the trap of believing that we need more. More space, more bedrooms, more bathrooms. There are therefore two skills we need to improve on before we get to that point. (Or more honestly, I need to improve on.) These are: having less stuff, and using space more effectively. Hence the decluttering, the focus on finding and making possessions with meaning rather than acquiring them thoughtlessly.

I would like to share some inspirational homes which are demonstrating just how possible it is to have a beautiful, personal, nourishing family home with limited space and expenditure.

An earth bungalow

 
Photos from www.telegraph.co.uk

A retired teacher in Oxfordshire built a cob house in his backgarden. Just to prove it could be done. It went slightly over budget and ended up costing him £150. You want to talk raw local natural materials? I have to say I would prefer somewhere with running water and an indoor toilet (not necessarily flushing, though - a composting toilet would suit me fine!) but just looking at these pictures is an enriching experience. This is definitely a house with a soul. (Entertainingly, the house is now let out to a tenant who pays the rent in milk) Please click here to read more.

I love cob as a building material. It's a mixture of soil, sand, straw and clay, and it naturally breathes, providing a home with clean air that is warm in winter and cool in summer. (Neat, huh?) The lime plaster and paint you need to use to allow the cob to breathe and prevent moisture from building up in the walls gives them a beautiful buttermilk yellow colour which I think is just gorgeous. And who doesn't love thatch? Or log fires?

I particularly love the visible use of wood here, how you can see the beams from the roof construction, and the very organic shapes - the curves and unusually shaped windows. To get a window in cob, you pretty much just cut a hole, there's no need for lintels or anything like that, and you can build cob in the most fantastic shapes - not just box houses but any-shape-you-want houses. I love the idea of a building material that can be used so creatively and expressively.