A Dexter Cow takes care of mowing the grass
I have enjoyed waking up to this sight the past few mornings. Who needs a lawnmower when you can have this instead? Tim and Jane have a little Dexter dairy cow that they set out on a tether to “mow the lawn” when the grass needs to be cut back. It’s a particularly enjoyable sight as the sun rises over the mountainside in the early morning. Simple pleasures, you know?
Our kale in the garden, as of a couple weeks ago
It’s not often that April and I travel, but out of the last 30 days, we have been away for half or more. Since going to the Timber Framers Guild workshop in Texas, and traveling to see family and friends, we have been away more this late winter/early spring than in recent memory. I hope we haven’t missed all of morel mushroom season and the redbuds flowering when we get back to Kentucky in another day! There are many other things to look forward to once we return, too.
As I enter a new phase in life with the goal of obtaining raw land to create my own slice of homesteading delight, my appetite for books and stories about permaculture, especially of a more personal account is ever greater. This is a fortunate time, as the number of books over the past decade have only been increasing as people have had more time to take permaculture principles to the field, garden, and home with new results to share. Landowners and prospective owners should consider themselves lucky to not have to go in quite as blind as before with books like Paradise Lot, by Eric Toensmeier and Jonathan Bates.
Actually, in this case a landowner could mean anyone with even a tiny backyard to their name, as this dynamic duo have created an unbelievable patch of perennial goodness on a mere 1/10th of an acre. Their experiment and book are a testament to the idea that even supremely ravaged land in suburban deserts can be transformed into thriving ecosystems, providing an abundance of soil, food, habitat, and ultimately reward.
High up in the sky, spreading seed on the living roof of Strawtron
Now is the typical time to think back on the past year, and to try my darnedest to remember everything that has transpired. 2013 was a particularly memorable year, not unlike the others, I suppose. But this year has been pretty different in several big ways, too. Most notably, this year we decided to move to Berea, Kentucky and sell our two homes at Dancing Rabbit. But that didn’t stop us from squeezing in a few more natural building workshops before we left. Oh, and we had to wrap up a lot of work on Strawtron before we could even sell it. Somehow, we found a way to cram it all in.
Here’s a look at how events and projects unfolded in 2013.
The lovey Berea, Kentucky landscape
Why Berea, Kentucky? We have moved from a landscape dominated by midwestern open skies, corn and soybean fields, very low population densities, and cheap living to an area of mountains, rocks and creeks, small college towns, and… cheap living, too. Dancing Rabbit (in Rutledge, Missouri) is sort of a hotspot in a cultural vacuum. There are no building codes and living is pretty dang cheap, but that comes at a certain cost, too. Northeast Missouri is not known for its progressive edge or counter-cultural activities, except for what you yourself create. While the tri-communities (Dancing Rabbit, Red Earth Farms, and Sandhill Farm) and the Possibility Alliance of La Plata, MO attract lots of very interesting folks, these communities are basically the beginning and the end of the eco and progressive edge (or whatever you want to call it) in northeast Missouri.
What we’ve discovered around Berea, Kentucky is an area with equally limited (or no) building codes and cheap living, but with many other very significant perks, as well. Here’s a distillation of what has attracted us to re-settling here on the edge of Appalachia.
A look at our new (transitional) home in Berea, KY! (Photo taken in early spring)
We have landed in Berea, Kentucky. We… live here now. That’s a strange thing to say, after investing so much of our lives into Dancing Rabbit for so long. April and I are both intensely excited for our future here, and it’s merely just begun.
I guess we haven’t officially moved just yet, as we are still DR members. Until the day we sell our two homes, we need to retain membership. And we haven’t moved everything out here just yet — basically just the essentials for living here through the spring. Our bee hives, valuable furniture, boring machines, scaffolding… you know, things that wouldn’t really fit in a small vehicle have been left behind for now.
Anyway, here’s what we’re looking at for our new lives in Berea for the next few months.
From the prairie, to the foothills…
This November marks the beginning of a new chapter for April and I, and The Year of Mud. We are officially moving from Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage in northeast Missouri to the Appalachian foothills of Berea, Kentucky. After more than 6 years living here, and due to a number of reasons, we are called elsewhere. It is definitely not a small decision. These are exciting times for us, but not without some sadness too. After all, we are leaving our community and our home(s) to start from utter scratch. We’ve invested a lot of our sweat, energy, and emotion into this place, yet we feel solid to say that our vision is taking us elsewhere. Here I’ll describe a bit about what we have in mind.
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.
