While many people typically wait until they are at least 30 years old to build their dream home, the thrill of hand-crafting your ideal living space is unmatched.
Imagine the journey of creating a plan, putting your heart and soul into it, and finally seeing your vision come to life. That’s exactly what Tom did. At just 17 years old, he used his skill, creativity, and determination to make his dream a reality.
Driven by rising housing costs and a desire for independence, Tom set out to build a modest home using recycled materials. He discovered he could create something completely from scratch while staying within a budget.
“My vision for the cabin was to keep things simple and provide a stress-free lifestyle. Everything I have is mine; I paid for everything”, Tom explained.
Now, at 20, Tom is relieved knowing he won’t have to spend his hard-earned money on rent. “It’s a no-brainer life and once you’ve built something, it really is yours”, he added.
Tom’s house is located on his grandfather’s extensive property and retains a charming English country aesthetic, complete with a side window. At 17, he bought a caravan and immediately began building it while working and completing his carpentry apprenticeship, which he completed in December.
The front of his house is made of larch wood, sourced cheaply from a local sawmill, while the side walls are made of fence boards. All the windows are recycled, sourced from a website that specializes in used materials. He recently added a porch, using boards from a scaffolding company and other scrap and reclaimed wood he recovered from the job.
Upon entering Tom’s home, visitors are greeted by beautiful reclaimed wood and a tranquil poster of a seascape. “My goal was to use only reclaimed wood for the build because it’s budget-friendly,” Tom noted. Much of the wood in his home was salvaged from old homes that he personally stripped down, sanded and repurposed.
The living area includes a compact workspace for his work and meals, a standard sofa, and a wall-mounted TV. In the future, he hopes to upgrade to a multifunctional sofa with built-in storage.
Tom especially loves his kitchen, where he made a fully functional worktop out of recycled scaffolding boards and spent hours sanding and painting it. The kitchen is equipped with essential appliances such as a fridge, stove and toaster.
Opposite the kitchen is a compact bathroom with a small chemical toilet with electric flush. The shower area has corrugated iron walls and copper fittings, evoking a rustic farmhouse feel. Back in the living room, a ladder leads to the loft, which leads to Tom’s cozy bedroom with double mattress.
Tom began building his dream home at age 17 with a budget of $8,200 and an hourly wage of $5.50 and managed to save most of his income to finance the construction of his home using recycled materials.
Imagine how his home will evolve as he completes the various upgrades he has in mind! For a full tour of Tom’s home, check out the video below
The Gift of Fido
The silence in my small house had grown louder with each passing year. Old and alone, the days stretched out, often indistinguishable from one another. I thought about getting a dog, a creature that would fill the emptiness, a warm presence against the encroaching quiet.
One chilly afternoon, shuffling through the familiar streets, I saw him. A small, scruffy shape huddled near a bin, dirty and clearly hungry. He looked up as I approached, his eyes wide but without fear. I knelt down slowly, offering a tentative hand. He didn’t flinch. I stroked his matted fur, spoke softly to him. When I stood up to leave, he simply followed, a silent, trusting shadow.
Now, he is my dog. My Fido. I am his human, his owner, though it feels more like we own each other. The silence is gone, replaced by the soft pad of his paws, the occasional sigh, the happy thump of his tail against the floor.
I talk to him constantly, sharing my thoughts, my worries, the mundane details of my day. He answers in his own way – a tilt of the head, a soft whine, or his favorite response, a vigorous wash of my hand with his rough tongue.
“Fido,” I’d told him just the other day, the worry etching lines deeper into my face, “tomorrow we won’t have anything to eat. The retirement money is gone, finished. We’ll have to wait until pension day!” He just licked my hand, as if to say, “We’ll figure it out, together.”
And then that blessed day arrives. I join the queue, a line of fellow retirees, each clutching their worn pension book, shattered by time and use. My own is tight in my hands, a thin lifeline. Fido, tied patiently nearby, shakes himself happily, a little dance of anticipation. He knows this day. He knows that today the bowls will be fuller, the meal a little richer, a little better than the thin gruel of the days before.
Winter arrives, wrapping the house in its cold embrace. Without a fire, the air bites. But Fido is there. Curled tightly against my legs on the worn armchair, or tucked beside me in bed, his small body is a furnace, a constant, reliable source of warmth that chases away the chill. He is more than just a dog; he is my living, breathing blanket against the cold world.
The first hesitant rays of spring find us sitting outside, bathed in the gentle warmth of the returning sun. We sit in comfortable silence, simply existing, together, grateful for the light, for the warmth, for each other. And from deep within my heart, a simple prayer is born, a quiet whisper of profound gratitude: “Thank you, Lord, for creating the dog.” For creating Fido, who found me when I was alone, and filled my life with warmth, conversation, and unwavering companionship.
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