
After one month in “enhanced community quarantine”, Micah and I finally ventured out of our cave at her parent’s place and braved the great outdoors – well, mostly just the road to our tiny house. We built this thing since December 5 (exactly) and we were never even able to stay in it yet. It was all thanks to Micah’s mother, who was able to secure a pass for the checkpoints on our behalf.
You know, I have written before about how I was surprised by the intensity of quarantine. But after a month, I genuinely thought that I had this thing down – that it was not bothering me anymore. But boy was I wrong.
Because let me tell you, once we arrived at the tiny house, I immediately had a stroke. Just of the good kind. It seemed as if my mind suddenly expanded into a space that had been locked for ages. For the rest of the afternoon I could feel the steam coming out of my ears. Not literally.
First, we enjoyed seeing all the plants around the tiny house and the adjacent cottage again. Micah spent a lot of time caring for those plants, and it was heartening to see that they had been well-watered and kept alive in our absence.
Next, we entered the tiny house and immediately gave our top-of-the-line, 1.5 horsepower air conditioning with inverter (trademark pending) a spin. Then we just collapsed on our custom-made beds for a while, lack of mattress notwithstanding.

Also, 100% vegetarian!
But we really could not be happier about how the house has turned out. Sure, we went over budget by quite a bit and there are still some small things to take care of – we need more curtains, the toilet flush needs some work and the water heater must be installed – but the house looks and feels incredible.
Then, sometime after having some of Micah’s excellent banana heart-patty sandwiches for lunch, we went to the beach. The fresh air of sea at high tide, combined with the lack of any souls but ours by the beach, made for probably the most relaxing thirty-or-so minutes I’ve had in the past months.
But all good things must come to an end, and so did our visit to our tiny house. With the evening curfew closing in, we had to return home. Hopefully, we can visit again soon. Or, dare I wish for it, actually stay in it, too? At least Micah’s mother said that we may be able to come back in two days – so there is hope.