We eased into the Tiny Home Plan by starting at my sister and her husband’s house near Mission, BC.

They have a ten-acre Christmas tree farm with lots of room and tons of tools so we (that’d be the Royal ‘we’) could kit out our new world.

They also have a wonderful RPod-sized gravelled site, a guest room shower, their very own duck pond, outdoor campfire pit, deck dining, and of course, they’re great company.

Two days passed and now we have the herbs and spices magnetized to tiny picture rails from Ikea. We have a zillion plastic bins that tuck and snug into their little berths. Rubbery skootguard has been glued to the shelves and the plates are snugged into a little cloth box so they can’t go flying. We bought Barbie-bungees to hold those cupboard doors while driving, and we each have one clear plastic bin that holds our ‘offices’.  I even have a gauzy curtain to create a private writing space in the ‘bedroom’.  Yes. Yes, I do.

With every thing that found its proper place, I was reminded of the best part of my childhood; all those tree houses, the barn and my little pink playhouse in our back bush.

That’s when it hit me. I get why this trailer life appeals to me; it’s like we’re playing at life.

Living in this tiny world doesn’t seem to have the burden of the reality of owning a ‘real’ home. It’s all kind of pretend. The only discernible difference is we’re having rack of lamb on the barbecue instead of mud pies made in Mom’s cast-off peanut butter tin lid.

And, I gotta say (sorry Mom), the lamb with a little Merlot is a very nice trade-up in this make-believe life.

Yesterday we finally hit the road…

First stop was a picnic lunch along the Chuckanut Drive in Washington. And then a lovely walk while we waited for the ferry at Fort Casey.

Last night we made our home at Fort Worden State Park in Port Townsend. I woke in the night to the sound of rain on our little RPod roof, then a crow clattered across the top, the breeze off the ocean brushed my face and I was so pleased that I had briefly woke to hear and feel it all.

We ate our breakfast at the picnic table while the deer watched from the trees, then grabbed our laptops and wandered around town, looking for the perfect coffee shop. It had to have the right vibe; art, bulletin boards, good-looking food and coffee, and of course, WiFi.

We found this lovely seaside joint. How can you go wrong with a name like Better Living Through Coffee?

The place is hopping with hippies cruising their Mac books and the cappuccino is divine. The tie-died shirts and crocheted vests are fabulous. I am suddenly feeling a pressing need for some little sewn-in mirrors and rhinestones to garnish my outfit.

Next we’re going to head out to find a few more hooks and maybe another tiny shelf, then we might need to find a nice trail to wander.

Then again, maybe I’ll just take my book and lay on the beach.

I think I like my new pretend life.

It actually feels pretty darned real.