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.
Mold has reared its ugly, ugly head in my home, and I have recently been consumed with attempting to determine a solution to this problem. I ask readers (especially those with experience living in cob houses in cold climates!) to please read ahead and help me to determine the best course of action. Any advice would be dearly appreciated.
Here are all the details fit to print.
It’s nigh on bedtime and the wind’s been blowing hefty hard all day, with snow falling regularly since the morning. Snow drifts are over two feet high and blocking many of our walking paths throughout the village, and another foot of snow is expected over the night. Wind turbines are screaming and the temperature is expected to plummet to -10º on Wednesday night, with a wind chill clocking in at a brisk -25º. Damn! These are a harsh few days for us in northeastern Missouri, where snow often doesn’t accumulate beyond a few inches.
The house is holding up just fine and the stove’s been cranking on and off throughout the day. This is the kind of weather for watching out the windows, reading and writing, and cooking hot and simple meals — cornbread and refried beans for us.
I’ll be lucky if I can get to my chopping stump tomorrow to chop some extra wood. Good thing there’s some ready to go in the woodshed for when I do need it…
Here’s a little slideshow of the sequence of construction activity on the Wabi-sabi kitchen. It’s from fall 2009 through the present. Notice that we’re up to the timber frame (and that’s why we need help from inspired carpenters, timber framers, and builders alike!) Here ya go:



