In late 2020, in the depths of Victoria's lockdown, I was living with my parents in my childhood farmhouse in Gippsland, Victoria.
I yearned for independence and a minimalist lifestyle, so rather than saving up for a house deposit and committing to one place, a mortgage, and rising interest rates, I wanted to keep my options open.
Early career journalists are often expected to move for work and, after living in eight different places in my early 20s, I was getting sick of rentals, packing boxes and moving house.
So with the help of my dad I decided to build my own tiny house on a trailer that I could take with me wherever I go.
I spent about six months researching, planning and designing the project. I read internet forums and watched hundreds of YouTube videos — from design inspiration to the minutiae of technical tips.
By mid-2021, I felt I was armed with enough information to guide me along the path to 'living tiny'.
I had saved about $20,000 for the initial up-front costs, and since then have been putting half of my fortnightly pay aside for ongoing projects costs, while still living with my parents.
Here's what I've learnt so far.
Trailers are hefty
I've never seen Dad go quite as white as when the tiny house trailer detached from our towbar and started throwing up sparks on the Calder Freeway, north of Melbourne.
We were driving home to Gippsland with the six-metre-long, two-and-a-half-metre-wide trailer.
Luckily, the security chains held and there was no damage to the trailer.
One of the first choices to make when planning a tiny home is whether you want to build on a trailer or make a house that can be transported by truck.
Tiny house trailers like mine have a set of national requirements and must be roadworthy under state laws, including registration, brake lights, and maximum heights and widths of the trailer.
The upside is that if a trailer is light enough — under 3,500 kilograms — you don't need any special licences to tow it from place to place.
Restrictions around how to build on the trailers are relatively loose compared to grounded homes, but one of the main questions to ask yourself is whether it will stand up to being blown, rattled and battered while travelling on the road at speed.
Builder? No. Handy? Yes.
Neither Dad nor I are builders — that much became evident when we put one of our windows in upside down.
But we live on a farm so the arsenal of hammers, saws and nails we already had on hand have made things a lot easier.
I designed the house myself to be capable of going fully off the grid, with double-glazed windows, solar, and a water tank.
My favourite elements of the design are the projector, smart lights and switches, and the fact my walls are all one big whiteboard.
Designing the space myself was enormously helpful for visualising the size of the task ahead.
Starting from the floor we have learnt the hard way to "measure twice, cut once", having remeasured and recut a plenty of bits of timber.
One of the differences with my house is that rather than wood, we're using special panels called structurally integrated panels that are often used to build coolrooms.
They provide good insulation, are airtight, easy to cut, and lock together with thousands of rivets.
Despite our planning, it has been satisfying to find solutions and workarounds to the many little problems which have cropped up during the build.
After riveting in all of our panels, we've just put on our roof and have now started fitting out the kitchen.
At crucial points during the build, we have had the help of my uncle (who is an actual builder) to guide us in the right direction.
Cuts, scratches and bruises have been inevitable, but accidents with ladders are entirely evitable.
Delays, not dismay
Like most houses featured in Grand Designs, our best laid plans have been significantly pushed back.
Starting our build in mid-2021, we'd first (perhaps naively) hoped to be done by the end of the year.
Now, we're hoping for the end of 2022.
So far the build has cost more than $50,000, but we're still under my budget of about $60,000.
I'm lucky I have an ongoing job with a steady salary and so I have been able to pay as I go, after the initial savings I put away.
Many of the same issues that have plagued the construction industry have also affected our build — a huge upswing in the amount of house renos and new builds has reduced availability of timber, tradies, and parts.
At times, I've had to wait till I had saved enough to buy the next lot of materials.
Despite all that, we've been most delayed by our own lack of time due to working full time. But as Dad very often says: "we'd do it quicker the second time around".
Parking space limited
At the moment, council rules determine where you can park your tiny house on a trailer and how long you can stay there.
There are also different rules for tiny houses requiring different connections like septic, water, and other systems.
Ideally I'd love to set up somewhere quiet, perhaps near a river, with plenty of sun for the solar panels and vegetable gardens.
While I'm not looking forward to culling my wardrobe and possessions, the idea of cutting back on 'stuff' — and the work it takes to maintain it — still holds great appeal.
Throughout the as-yet unfinished process, I've learned unexpected lessons about the joy of making things with your hands, gratitude, and the hope needed to make plans for the future.
Rio Davis is a news reporter with ABC Gippsland on Gunaikurnai country.
ABC Everyday in your inbox
Get our newsletter for the best of ABC Everyday each week