Mastering Goldilocks

My Initial Inklings was to have habitat wings which were mostly left unmodified, save a window or door reinforcement.   A friend eager to offer feedback on the Cargotecture design likened the design to be barracks-like.  That may be the military mind's eye at work, but it does track to have common space separated from the sleeping space and to entice occupants not to cave up in a bedroom.

While I like that design concept in general, it runs into a glitch in the Master Bedroom and the adjoining suite.  My inclination was a linear approach which has a Master Suite with an enjoining en suite Master Bathroom and a Walk In Closet, although I vaccilated on the order of the adjunct spaces to the Master Bedroom.  This layout plan seems great, save one small detail-- the width of the room.

If only one cargo container used used for a Master Suite, it means that the rooms could only be 7.2 ft wide  By the time that insulation is added, that would probably make the room only 7" wide.  Sure, thats wide enough to accomodate a Queen sized bed, but only comfortably placed in one direection  and it would necessitate narrow sides for access.

A facile solution would likely be to fuse two containers together to get more width on a wing.  But there are a few snags with such a simple plan.  Obviously, it calls for using another container which doubles costs.  Then it needs to be welded together.  It would create a 14' wide room, which is luxurious but will be prone to be filled.  My gut tells me that this would be too big. The other rooms in the design would either be enlarged or significantly alter the layout.

The Master Bedroom design suggests a Goldilocks dilemma.  I don't want something too big or too small but just right.  I think if part of the wall of the Master Bedroom that is adjacent to the Great Room covered Breezeway was bumped out to 10', this would give navigation space to get around the Queen bed and an ability to place the bed horizontal or perpendicular to the flow of the room.  I suppose that with the cut out, there would have be be some reinforcement of a load bearing wall.

Keeping to the Initial Inklings, I anticipated that the enclosed breezeway would end 4 ft. before the wings, which would create a slight porch.  If part of the Master Bedroom was punched out to 10 ft., there would be an wide alcove in the front of the Master Bedrooom.  Some designers use that as a sitting area near a window to give the illusion of space.  Perhaps a built in or dresser could go there too. But it might be prudent to put the walk in closet in that alcove instead.  The only downside to this would be a lack of sunshine from a front window. The natural light could be compensated by a side window.

Finding My Inspiration

The building which persuaded me that Cargotecture could be pretty and practical home was
a so called modern farmhouse designed by Jon Meier and Backcountry Containers for a DIY show Containables.  The concept was to have two parallel 40 ft. HC containers connected by an enclosed breezeway.  I appreciated how the design used wings to have secluded space balanced by open gathering spaces in the great room and kitchen.

My initial Sketchy Plans extrapolated from the concept without seeing the schematic.    I had to guess at the dimensions and make logical deductions based on the brief video snippets of the design and the finished project. But after I tried my hand in CAD, I found the original plans which inspired me.

I was off on a couple of assumptions about "La Grange Getaway".  I did not think that there was any closet space, but all of the bedrooms had long but narrow closets.   There was also storage in the Master Bath.  The bedrooms were also bigger than I presumed.  The guest bedrooms were 14 1/2 ft. long, which especially made sense for the "bunk room" that housed the grandkids.  The Master Bedroom was 16 ft. 9", which was a couple of feet longer than I thought. The covered breezeway was just 15 ft. wide, when I thought that it was 20 ft.  There was also a 8' x 7' utility room that did not make the features reel.

While I was wrong that there was no storage space, the name "La Grange Getaway"  indicates that it was a weekend type retreat rather than a forever home.

I am grateful that Dwell.com published this Backcountry Container layout plan.  The design has been a great inspiration, but I have discerned ways that it would be customized to eventually become my dream home.

Sketchy Plans

Rather than to try my hand at drawing up a concept of my own Cargotecture  (and ending up with a pile of crumbled pieces of paper),  I sought to use some free CAD software.   

While I consider myself pretty computer adept, I struggled with the trial software to get it to rotate objects.  Still, I was able to draw up a concept of the home that I have in mind.  I would not want an architect to dutifuly build off of these sketchy plans, lest I mistakenly construct an 18 inch replica of Stonehenge ala  "This is Spinal Tap".  

"This Is Spinal Tap" (1982) Stonehenge concert scene

My inability to rotate objects meant that I could not accurately show the notion of having most of the kitchen go against the wall of the guest wing. Moreover, I could not insert closets, most notieably lacking a coat closet in the formal front.

I also did not place where I would want a pantry, laundry area and a WC/Powder Room/ (or possibly a Wet Room), nor did it include the storage areas at the rear of each wing. 

Initial Inklings

My concept is to use two parallel 45 ft. (or 40 ft. if necessary) containers connected by a covered 25 ft. (or 20 ft.) interor courtyard that would act as a great room and full kitchen.  There would be a 20 ft. by 45 ft (40 ft) cement foundation for the breezeway. One wing would effectively be a Master Suite, with a bedroom, en suite bathroom and a walk in closet.  The other wing would have a guest bedroom, a media room, a bathroom (maybe just a WC, or a wt room), a mud room (with a pantry and laundry area) and storag

Since the breezeway does not extend to the far end of the containers, it creates a patio.This is welcome to push living outward.  Conceivably, this be like a deck, pergola or a sunroom.

 By having the roof extended into the patio, this would create an indoor/outdoor covered area which would minimize heating and cooling. The roof above the outdoor patio may be usuable for attic storage.  The natural light could be provided by a clear roll up door.  The roof above the outdoor patio may be usuable for attic storage.  Prospectively, this would be 1180 sf of habitable space (or 1004 sf) with a 340 sf covered patio.

The downsides of expanding semi- conditioned space outward are twofold.  This approach kind of defeats the purpose of a Tiny House, necessitating cleaning and maintenance to yet another 340 sf of space.  The more important drawback is that the extended wings of the parallel container in an enclosed space would not provide adequate circulation for gas grilling or having a fire pit.

Another approach would be a deck.  This certainly would accomdate grilling and perhaps a fire element (though there might be flamability concerns).  Whether a deck is made of wood or composite, it will be worn by the weather and need maintenance and eventual replacement.  A fire element might not pass safety muster.

The third way is to create an extended patio.  To have low maintenance, I would anticipate extended the cement foundation outwards.  It might be possible to create a courtyard like effect with a gate.  As it is a large area, it could serve to be entertainment, grilling, brewing and have some light storage.  The cement foundation would require less maintenance.   I can eventaually envision a pergola, but would not be structurally necessary to be installed at the start.  In the meantime,  we could use pop up canopies and discern how best to proceed. 

Customizing Cargotecture Concepts

I am impressed by the utility of converting cargo containers into homes.  This may well be the way to go as my household "right sizes" in a new situation.

While it would be wonderful to buy a pre-fab cargo home  off the shelf, they tend to have inflated bottom lines and do not have my prized qualities in mind within their design.  I want to keep it one level, so that it is easy to age in place and not have to go up stairs.  To add room to the narrow width of Cargo-tecture, most builders weld together containers.  In my estimation two 40 ft High Capacity containers is still too small, because they lack virtually any storage space. A third container might be a good size, but the hollowing out through welding really seems to considerably drive up costs.   So I may have to go another way.

Jon and Kristen Meiers' designed a stunning "Modern Farmhouse" container home for their show on DIY Network.  The design linked two 40 ft HC units with a covered breezeway.  This solution gave plenty of habitable space.  It was intended as a place where a Texas grandmother could host her daughter and two teenaged grandsons, so one of the bedrooms was decked out with bunkbeds.  On the episode, all seemed happy that it met their stated needs.

Backcountry Container (Jon Meier) design of DIY Modern Farmhouse on Contain-ables 

Reality Television is replete with home makeover shows, which is great for for sparking creativity and inspiring  appealing designs.  But reality shows often do not represent reality, more like Reality Blurred. Enquiring minds might wonder what is the rest of the story, as to whether the design concept really worked as living space.

The Contain-able Modern Farmhouse seemed great, but as I studied the design, the plans did not account for a television watching area.  Granted, that may have been a conscious choice.  But the space also did not have any real closet or storage space in it.  My best guess is that it was a weekend retreat aimed at extended family outings but it would for full time living it would need storage supplementals. 

Another reality home improvement show which told compelling stories but sometimes proferred questionable designs was TLC's Trading Spaces (2000-2008), which has recently been revived.  Trading Spaces would have two couples redo a neighbor's room over two days on a budget under the tutelage of a celebrity designer and shared carpenter.  Many of the show pieces were thematic and provocative, sometimes resulting in cringeworthy conclusions, especially from notorious designer Hildi Santo-Tomas.  The Beach Cabana Living Room looked more like a Circus Big Top filled with river sand.   Then there was straw living room which festoonied walls with hay for a household with two curious children prone to pluck straw  the more adult gathering space.   Reportedly, producers paid to correct the epic fail and it took 17 hours to fix the mess. 

The lessons that I've learned from Reality Blurred is to clearly discern lifestyle and practical considerations when designing a dream home and not to be afraid to customize cargotecture to suit those priorities.  Presumably there will be a tension between being stylish and being practical.  But  because I will have to live with the decision, I want any Cargotecture to be right size both spacially and liveable. 

Size Matters--But Bigger Isn't Always Better

I am trying to keep a hand full of principles in mind while planning my next abode.  I anticipate this being several years in the future when downtown development forces me out of El Barroco (my urban townhouse in the District of Calamity).  I anticipate that if a developer buys us out, there will be a chunk of change to work with, but I do not want to be house poor going into retirement.

One of the challenges of my modus vivendi is dealing with clutter. My spouse has sentimental clutter which she has vowed to winnow  but the song remains the same.  I have to anticipate "If there is free space, then it will be filled". I certainly have some share of "junk" but that mainly is "future clutter", or things that may be useful sometime later. While there is talk about getting rid of "junk", this impetus would be imposed by right sizing and smart architectural design.

The answer which I am exploring is a modified cargo container home.  Cargo containers are plentiful, sturdy and prima facia cost effective. That being said, the narrow width (7.5 feet) causes some crimps in planning Cargotecture.  Those who delight in Tiny Homes can modify one 40' cargo unit and have around 300 sf of habitation, which could even be mobile.  For those who do not want to dwell in crampted conditions, the standard practice is to weld together boxes to increase the dimensions or to stack and build vertically.

The tendancy in home building nowadays is to have larger and larger manses with dedicated rooms.  According to the American Enterprise Institute, the average new single famlyhouse size has exploded from 1,660 sf in 1973 to 2,687 in 2015.  The Tiny House phenomenon is a reaction against that inclination.

 Honestly, I am somewhere in between those polarities.  While I admire the efficiency and multi-purpose of Tiny Homes, I am not willing slog through life without any storage, dealing with composting toilets and cooking in a mini kitchen akin to heat and eat cuisine in a college dorm room.  But many off-the-shelf plans have lots of "wasted space".  And pre-fab cargo home plans often have open plans which require costly welding.

To prioritize planning, I thought about homes that have many dedicated rooms that rarely get used.  In my experience, the formal dining room that effectively gets used at Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Many formal living rooms which are never used. Or offices which devolve into storage areas (guilty as charged). While I hope to create multi-use out of most space, I hope to get away from the habit of encouraging web surfing, snacking or doing busy work  from  the bedroom. 

In recent years, I have learned to love sitting outside, to get the natural light and fresh breeze.  But my beloved can get bugged by mosquitos or experiencing too much sunshine.  Thus I would seek to design a dream home to accommodate both interests.

I have been into home brewing for years, but due to logistics in a townhouse, I do not get to brew beer. Of late, I have been brewing Kombucha but the fermenters freak out my spouse. So I want to create a brew friendly space which would not be focused in the kitchen. I also have been doing pickling and some canning, which is tough to do in a small space.  I should plan so that real cooking as opposed to heating and eating is the main culinary approach.

As for kitchens, we do not need high end Viking appliances or built in refrigerators.  But we definitely ought to design a more than a "one butt kitchen", as it is vexing to be in the midst of cooking and have to dance around each other.  Since we do not have a big family and often we eat on the run, it would seem wise to have a breakfast bar option.  Perhaps combine the breakfast bar with a countertop/storage island.

I do not see the need for a formal dining room.  To facilitate hosting dinners, I would want to explore a portable table which would be more than a couple of card tables but less than a dining room furniture set.  This is an instance that a custom build utilizing Tiny Home techniques would be instrumental.  There was a DIY design for a six person table that was stored in a converted horse trough seat.

Before we were married, my beloved loved to do crafting.  But that is hard to do in the mire of clutter.  In a Tiny Home, there is not to luxury of a dedicated crafting room. However, if a space could be readied to do crafting, that would work.  Perhaps a guest room could have a multi-purpose as a open area for hobbying. 

This discernment process directs me to drop any thought of a formal dining room and that I should be chary about a parlor.  I need to think about pushing liveable space outside for entertainment and avocational activities. For our purposes, a bedroom ought not be designed as a place to hang out or do work. 

Size does matter but bigger isn't always better.  Right sizing could be likened to a skirt: You want it long enough to cover the essentials but short enough to be interesting. 

Reconsidering Rooms

Planning a dream house ought to include an idiosyncratic analysis on how one uses space at home. Perhaps the well to do can build abodes that have singular uses.  Then one merely needs to pay to build it, clean it and maintain it.  Most of us do not have that luxury.

Different eras had different needs and priorities.  I think about a place where my friend visits on the Eastern Shore of Maryland.  I suspect that it was a farm house built in the late 1800s.  The original structure had a sitting room downstairs and a kitchen.  Up a steep stairway, there was a Master Bedroom and another bedroom with a closet.  That's it.  Presumably prior to having running water, there was no loo. Minimal closet space.  Additions make the house more liveable as seen through the prism of today.

Until  the 1930s, American homes mostly did not have closets per se.  The norm was a  mobile wardrobe that took up some of the bedroom. Of course, people did not have as many clothes and would iron their "Sunday best" nightly to look presentable.  In the post World War II enviroment, closets tended to be narrow and modest by contemporary standards. Nowadays, people seem to devote rooms for their clothes.  Bathrooms have also become a big deal.

It used to be that everyone had a Parlor or a misnamed "Living Room", which typically was not used unless one hosted company.  There is the stereotype that some persnickety housewives sought to keep their good furniture from being soiled, so they always kept it in plastic seat cushions, which made it uncomfortable and not particularly aesthetic.  Up until recently, most homes were designed with formal dining rooms.  But from my experience, those rooms were rarely used, mainly for the holidays.

Since the advent of television in the 1950s, living spaces have been oriented to watch the flickering screen.  In the 1990s, I recall a boomlet in trying to hide a big TV in an armoire with doors, so that it did not appear to be a focal point of a family room.  But televisions are much bigger and flatter.  Fortunately, we have not (yet) "evolved" into wall sized interactive telescreens as George Orwell envisioned in 1984.

Whether or not people will admit it, most people still like to watch television for much of their entertainment.   This prompts the question of to where to position "the boob tube".

It would be nice to have an entertainment space that is not dominated by television.  But if our inclination is still to watch media, designing a Great Room without a TV risks making it into the Living Room, like those rarely used parlors from the mid 20th Century.  Yet by positioning a TV set in a room can make conversation rooms moot because broadcasts punctuate the space. 

When there were only three channels, there was little debate as to what to watch.  As the price of television sets plunged, the amount of niche programming exponentially rose and TVs could show broadcasts, recorded programming, video games and can even stream the internet, having a few different sets does make sense.

My initial concept is to limit the television to a media room/office and one in the bedroom. Technology continues to advance.  It is easy to anticipate that one could stream (or mirror) programming on a laptop computer or tablet if one wished to lounge in a comfy chair away from a TV.

At George Washington's Mount Vernon estate, the kitchen was detached from the main manse and needed ventillation space for cooking fires and caves for proto-refrigeration.

The kitchen at Mount Vernon, Virginia 

In 20th Century America, Suzie Homemaker would not want guests in the kitchen, so dining areas were away from the cooking zones (even in formal dining rooms).  Nowadays, kitchens often serve as gathering places, so they are designed to have breakfast bars or islands which facilitate gathering while cooking. 

Then there is the question of overnight guests.  For a relatively Tiny Home, my instinct is to have a guest room and an ability to have a convertable love seat/ bed in the media room/office.  It seems like a waste of space to just have a dedicated bedroom which is rarely used.  My hunch is to plan for a convertable room, with a Murphy Bed like unit (perhaps a chest bed), which could be folded up and the space used for crafts or just uncluttered.

Since my household has struggled with clutter, I have sought to design a large walk in Master Bedroom closet.  I anticipate having two storage areas on the ends of each wing, which would take advantage of a cargo containers end doors. 

But until it is built (and then lived in), nothing is written in stone.  I suspect that I will seek lots of input and have to make some compromises in the process.

Why Should I Contain Myself?

In anticipation of being bought out of my urban townhouse, I wanted to consider creating a new dwelling.  Considering my state in life, my priorities are to design something frugally and encourages downsizing of "junk" while allowing for aging in place and that will be low maintenance.

Tiny Houses certainly force people to live simply, often for the trade off of being mobile. I do not envisage that being conducive to our life style, Yet I believe that some of the space saving techniques could be quite useful.

Container homes in their simplest form are akin to a Tiny House without the ready mobility.  There are some designs which fuse together containers.  This is especially useful to circumvent the narrow 7.5" interior width of most cargo containers.  As far as I have seen, when a project fuses together containers, it becomes significantly more costly.  A 640 sf house would be too small per se.  A 1280 sf plan would be more than enough but for the engineering involved, it might rival the cost of a regular stick home.

My initial notion of "Cargotecture" was inspired by a DIY TV episode of Contain-able  of a modern farmhouse. 

Jon and Kristen Meier's Contain-able Modern Farmhouse

Jon and Kristen Meier's design had a great exterior aesthetic, good flow of space and the covered breezeway gave quite a bit of living space for a cargo container based abode.    Schematically, it looks like a fat "H" using parallel containers connected by an "A" frame.  

For us, this "Fat H" concept seems like the most practical and economical scheme for building a forever house to walk into the sunset of life.