My husband, Chris, and I have been married for about a year and a half and live in a small, but nice apartment. Our rent is cheap, we have granite counter tops, hardwood floors, stainless steal appliances, a washer and dryer, and to top it all off, our apartment is in the perfect location, giving both of us very short commutes for work. Yet, we have been getting increasingly restless with this space.
We are very cut off from nature, and we are definitely nature people. Our apartment happens to be above a truck garage, in a truck yard. The river is right behind us, so many come here and think how lucky we are having that beauty outside our door, but really it’s just a tease. The peaceful river is almost a daily taunt, showing us what we can’t have. We are several stories above the earth, making us feel very disconnected once inside. And while I have tried to set up a chair on the little landing outside our door to enjoy the river, I can’t find solace there from the constant activity.
We can’t entertain in our outdoor space, because we don’t have one. It is a parking lot. We have a close group of friends we’d love to invite over for a cookout and a fire, and be able to offer them a comfortable place to rest their heads; but we just don’t have these amenities.
With all of that said, I often wonder if we actually had these things, would we still want to stay here? My gut tells me no. We’re ready to move on in our lives and have a place to call our own. We want to be able to put work into a space and know that we will reap the benefits. We want to come home and feel motivated to add to, mold, and shape our space because its ours and we can. Simply put, we are ready.
Back in February, we found the house of our dreams, and until that moment, we had been thinking of taking any house we could get our hands on when the time was right. This house changed everything for us. It made our hearts sing. The land it was on instantly gave us peace. It was an incredible opportunity that just could not be passed up, so we put together an offer to buy the house. Long story short, it was taken before we really ever had a chance of buying it. We were heartbroken, but we were still changed. Through this experience, we learned to never settle or just take what we could get. Waiting for the right house would be worth the waiting.
Ever since, Chris looks online almost daily at the local house listings in hopes to gain as much knowledge for when we are ready to purchase. Recently, he found a piece of land in the town we want, for the size we want, and for a price that just may be achievable. We discussed the prospect of building a house. We decided to take a drive and go see this piece of land before we got ahead of ourselves.
We pulled up and saw there was a little path where we could walk through. It was magical. There was a giant rock in the front, surrounded by a small cluster of tall trees. Beyond that, there was a clearing amid a full forest that was overgrown, but visible just the same. I instantly felt at peace. My mind took off as if it were a fortune teller showing me our future.
I pictured the privacy that cluster of trees offered. Lovely little gardens filled with wildflowers, fruits, and veggies. A patio filled with the laughter of our friends and a fire crackling in the background. A porch where I could sip my morning coffee. I pictured our home. When we walked back to the car, I felt that the vision was slipping away with every step. Every step reminded me that building a house is really out of the question at the moment. I saw our life together, exactly how we wanted it. But I knew that we couldn’t have it, not yet anyway.
After a while of Chris sharing his own fantasies about the space (pretty much mirroring mine), he asked why I was so sad. I told him that I wanted that land. Bad. But I knew we couldn’t have it, and I was frustrated that it wasn’t the time. My heart couldn’t take the jerking around. He told me that at that price, with everything else, it wasn’t completely out of the question.
What if we bought it now, and then used it almost as a campsite for the next year or two, while slowly transforming and getting to know the land? What if we did that until we could get a construction loan to build our own house exactly how we want it?
The fact has always been that we don’t want for much when it comes to a house. We have simple dreams. A space to call our own mainly. A peaceful yard. We have no need for a large, shiny house. Even if we were loaded, we would build a small house, just with finer details.
The rest of the day, we entertained the idea of buying this land and building a house on it someday. We thought of putting up temporary housing for the years we would wait. We thought of a trailer, but dismissed it because it would just be a waste. We thought of a camper, but figured we wouldn’t want to live in it during the winter. Then Chris said as a joke, “Do you want to live in a yurt?”. I jokingly responded, “nah”. But then, we looked at each other, gears spinning. Hmmmm. Let’s do some research. So we did, and what we found made our hearts sing.
This is the documentation, research, and story of our journey towards living in a yurt. Every stage, every discovery, every idea will be written here in hopes to keep a log for us to cherish, but also to help others in our same boat. This new dream feels crazy, but exciting and scary, and the more we think about it, the more right it feels.