Carving out the window sill for a retrofit
One of the great things about cob is how immensely sculptable the material is. But the sculpture doesn’t stop once the walls are dry. You can always come back to a wall with a shovel, pickaxe, machete, or other sturdy tool and do retrofitting fairly easily. I recently decided to redo some of the window sills in the house that were straight cob, and instead install some wood boards to make them more functional.
At last, I finished producing my cob building book, The Year of Mud: Building a Cob House. It is available for purchase through Blurb.com. This book is a story of how I constructed my own home, and what it is like to build with cob. The book features dozens of color images, how-to information and building recipes, and inspiration for those wanting to learn more about cob and earthen building.
Here’s a synopsis and some details about the cob house manual:
I recently finished (well, almost finished) digging a curtain drain around my house to help deal with poor drainage problems. It’s a two foot deep trench, filled with gravel and drained to daylight. It wraps around the whole house and is centered under the eaves.
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I spent about four days over the past two weeks with a crew of other Dancing Rabbit and Red Earth folks working to deconstruct an old house in a nearby town. This was the most complete deconstruction experience I’ve had thus far — it was a great opportunity to start from scratch in pulling apart a house, piece by piece, revealing the innards, and scratching my head the whole time about the incredibly questionable and pretty damn ugly building decisions in this particular building. The thing sure was hideous with thoughtless additions and ugly materials, but we still got a good amount of wood and other useful materials out of it.
I recently had the fortunate opportunity to check out Mud, Hands, A House (or El Barro, Las Manos, La Casa, its original Spanish title), a great natural building documentary provided to me by the kind Max of Firespeaking.com.
It’s an educational, how-to focused natural building documentary with a wealth of instructional segments, led by Jorge Belanko, an engaging master natural builder based in Patagonia, Argentina.
It’s spring, and the building season has officially begun. I’ve been a bit consumed with thinking about building lately — between doing some work around the house, planning for the next building season for the cooperative kitchen, thinking about a new home design, and serving on Dancing Rabbit’s new Common House design committee (we are a group of five tasked with designing a new common house intended to serve a population of 150 people), I have plenty to think about in the building arena. Sometimes it’s exhausting.
But as soon as I am able to actually do work, and not just think about it, it feels a lot better.
Last December, I mentioned the possibility of writing a book about building my cob house. Well, I never got around to it that winter. But this winter, I have made it a priority.
This February, I’ve chomped down and begun the process of writing a book about the experience of building my cob house from the perspective of a first-time builder. It’s important for me to note that even with the current moisture problems, which almost dissuaded me from taking on the project, I decided it would be a worthwhile venture to get some of my writing in print, in a more easily digestible form, including all those things that I’ve learned, including some of the experiences of the past couple months.
You might be wondering what’s next for the house, for my living situation, for this website. Gobcobatron needs some help, and it’s clear that a cob house in northeast Missouri is probably not the best idea for a four seasons dwelling. I love my house, but it’s become apparent that this is not the house I am meant to live in for the long haul.
But what will become of it?
There’s something I’ve had to come to terms with living in our cob house, Gobcobatron. Cob is not the most appropriate, responsible building material for this cold climate of northeastern Missouri. This applies to similarly cold climates as well. Sad to say, but that is the reality.
Here are my thoughts on why cob building is not appropriate for cold climates, based on personal experiences and understanding more about the thermal properties of cob.
I have some new insights into my winter moisture conundrum. I have a new theory, but I am trying to make complete sense of factors at play here. Currently, I think it is indeed a combination of condensation and drainage that are resulting in moisture entering the house.
Read ahead for an update.
Hi there, I’m Ziggy. In 2008, I launched The Year of Mud while building my first natural home. This blog is a collection of personal stories and experiences building with clay, straw, and wood over the past 15+ years. A few of the things that get me fired up are natural plasters, timber framing, & Japanese architecture. Since 2012, we’ve been hosting Natural Building Workshops so you can learn essential skills to build your own natural home.
