Tuff Shed Redux
Good for much more than storage, Tuff Sheds make great tiny homes too.
“Let’s get a Tuff Shed,” I said to Erik as he handed me my morning coffee a couple of weeks ago. “We know how solid the product is—and we know how to trick one out. I’ve played with their configurator tool online, and we can get a metal roof and Hardie board cement siding so the structure’s fire safe. And shelving. Lots of shelving! What do you think?”
“Can I have my coffee before the sales pitch, Liz?” asked Erik.
“Sure,” I said. “To be clear though: By ‘have my coffee’ do you mean you just need to have your coffee in hand, or do you need to have finished your first cup?”
I was eager, excited, ready to sign on the dotted line, ready to build finally what I envisioned as the solution to all our storage problems. Although “shed” in this case would be slightly inaccurate. I planned to propose that we go for a 24’ x 30’ Tuff Shed garage.
It wasn’t lost on me that, if we were to install this Tuff Shed garage, we would be completing, finally, the buildout of our Cascadia property and the run of renovation and rebuilding that started in 2014 with a 10’ X 12’ Tuff Shed in the backyard of our home in Palo Alto, California.
Erik and I lived together in that 10’ x 12’ shed for six months while we updated the house I had lived in for almost 20 years, first with my former husband and our daughter, then with my daughter, then by myself, then with Erik – and always with cats.
Our first renovation project was prompted by the threat of a layoff. In 2012 I was working at a large Silicon Valley technology company where I had landed in 2008, just as the Great Recession started. And while I was grateful to have a job, during those years the company changed. Notably, the tech giant developed a disheartening appetite for chewing through employees in twice-annual layoffs, so regular you could set the atomic clock by them: One layoff in May. One layoff in September.
Although I’d never been laid off, I knew this was a numbers game and I was in the target demographic of women over 40. I had just made it through the May 2012 cuts, so I figured I had until September until the next axing.
“Erik,” I said, over breakfast one morning at our favorite brunch spot. “I think it’s time to remodel the house.”
“Oh, Liz,” Erik groaned. “God, no. That’s a huge undertaking!”
“I know. I know. But I’ve been thinking about it. If I lose my job, we’ll have exactly three months to sell the place and move. We won’t be able to stay. And after working my ass off for 20 years to cover this mortgage, I couldn’t bear to hold a fire sale. I’d like to get top dollar on this investment, and the best way to do that is to remodel this place before we ever have to put it on the market.”
I paused to take a bite of our shared cinnamon roll.
Despite being a single mom on a very tight budget, I’d managed to hold onto a house in one of the most expensive real estate markets in the US. I’d done so to ensure my daughter Harrison grew up in a solid community and could get an education in some of the better public schools. But while our house was in a great location and I did my best to keep it neat and clean, it was a mess. Original knob-and-tube wiring; uninsulated walls, piping and attic; cracked asbestos tiles in the garage; a 50-year-old furnace that barely heated the living room and one bedroom in the winter; and termites (even after tenting and spraying). I figured it was worth taking out a loan and putting a hundred thousand into the house so we weren’t forced to sell it for the land value only.
“I realize it’s a really ambitious project,” I said to Erik. “But I also think it’s worthwhile.”
“Let me think about it,” said Erik. “I’ve done remodels, and it’s no walk in the park. It’s disruptive and stressful. So many decisions to make. People in your space all the time. So much dust.”
“I hear you,” I said. “But I’m game if you’re game.”
After much discussion over several weeks, we decided to do it.
Although we thought we’d try to live in one room of the house during the remodel, because we would be taking everything down to the studs, the builders recommended we move out entirely. That’s when we discovered this project would cost us more than we budgeted for. As we investigated possible rentals, we soon realized we would need to fork out an additional $4,000 per month, on a minimum one-year contract.
“Yikes,” I said, after ending a call with yet another property manager who echoed what every other property manager had said. I told Erik what I’d learned.
“That’s nuts!”
“Indeed,” I agreed. “If this is how it is, we may have to give up on the remodeling idea. I’ll do do some painting instead.”
But I’d forgotten that for Erik, words like “can’t,” “give up,” “forget about it” signal a challenge to solve. And he will never turn down that invitation. Ever.
I was working in the garden a week or so later when Erik walked over with a glass of lemonade and a grin on his face.
“I have an idea,” he said, handing me the lemonade. “Let’s install a Tuff Shed. I’ve been doing some research. For the equivalent of two months’ rent, we build the shed, insulate it, pull electricity and water to it. We’ll end up with a 120-square-foot accessory dwelling unit on the property that can be used as a home office, or studio space, AirBnB rental, or a tiny home. In other words, we’ll add value to the property instead of spending money on rent - ummpffff … ”
I cut Erik off with a full-on kiss.
“WooHOO!” I whooped. “It’s a brilliant idea! BRILLIANT! Let’s do it!”
“Eight years later, a Tuff Shed is still a brilliant solution,” I said to Erik, as he sipped that first coffee of the morning. “We do need a garage, and this garage will give us both the storage and the workshop space we’re lacking. We’ll be able to keep our stuff out of the elements, preserving its lifespan. Plus, the cost is predictable and you won’t have to spend your whole summer doing another buildout!”
I was striking the flint. But as yet, no spark. And then I remembered the missing ingredient.
“On the other hand, maybe it’s not the right solution,” I said slowly. “It may not be the right kind of structure. Might not be able to withstand the snow loads up here.”
“Liz, there’s no need to speculate,” said Erik. “We can calculate that. I’ve already calculated that, in fact. You remember I configurated a Tuff Shed garage for this property before we moved up here, right?”
“Did you?” I asked. “I don’t quite recall that, but if you say so …”
“Here,” said Erik. “I’ll get my computer and show you.”
And so this week, we decided we would go ahead and sign on the dotted line. Our Tuff Shed garage workshop will go up sometime in the next few months, and you better believe we’re already planning how we’ll trick it out.