Saturday, June 7, 2014

The Cob House

Building with Cob


“Building with cob is a powerful political action, greatly reducing the need for the mortgage systems, lumber and construction industries, and petrochemical companies. Cob builders spend less of their lives working to pay for all of the above, and more time living. Making homes with natural materials gathered gently from the earth improves the likelihood of the survival of life itself.” (The CobBuilders Handbook, by Becky Bee)

“Cob is gentle on the planet. Using cob reduces the use of wood, steel, and toxic building supplies.” (The CobBuilders Handbook, Becky Bee)

Resources we're using:

The Handsculpted House, by Ianto Evans, Michael Smith and Linda Smiley
The CobBuilders Handbook, by Becky Bee (free pdf download)
The Tao of Cob, by Dorethy Hancock

We’ve cleared the ground, outlined the walls with stones, built a model more or less to scale. The shake tests of four different soil samples suggest that the dirt under our feet will make fine adobe or cob, with a good proportion of sand, about 50%, and perhaps 25% clay. We think we can gather grass stalks from Guy’s scything to use as straw to help bind the cob. Today we plan to start a trial wall, something small, to see how the cob mix holds up.

Location of new house, just a few yards from the first house we had built in 2012.
Stakes and tape outline the walls of the projected house








Soil from four sites. Bottom line indicates where sand settled within 5 seconds.  Next line up indicates where silt settled after 10 minutes. Above the second line the clay separates more slowly from the water. 

Here the water has been poured off - a good ratio of sand to clay.


Sofia starts clearing the area. Fofo, the cat, wants to help.

Hard work but nice as the afternoon cools off.

Greta finishes the clay model of the cob house.

Front door - two bedrooms, a living area and the bathroom.



First experiment making cob.
Third attempt with a larger amount of earth. This came out well.

Foundation for a cob bench - our first trial project.

Working in the cob.

Bench is about a third done.

We have an offer from an architect from Panama who currently lives in Brasilia (about 70 miles from here) to help us for a day or two. His father, also an architect, will be visiting from Panama and has expressed interest in what we’re doing. What a gift! We hope they’ll look at our plans and the tiny progress we’ve made, and help us with their observations, especially regarding the roof, which we haven’t been able to envision so far.

Will it work? No one around here makes cob houses - there isn't even a word for cob in Portuguese. In the past adobe bricks and wattle-and-daub were common materials for farm houses, but now baked bricks and cement prevail. We would love to show that we can build a very nice house for next to nothing. We hope it looks something like the house pictured below, thought the Kansas grandmother who built this house spent quite a bit because she paid for a lot of labor and purchased really nice extra materials and fixtures. 

Photo from the cover of The Tao of Cob, by Dorethy Hancock


Sunday, April 13, 2014

April - our autumn



   ______________________________________________

Would you like to spend a few months in Brazil this year? Even if you’re not a soccer fan, 2014 promises to be an exciting year to visit the land of Pele, samba, Rio, the old capital with its lovely beaches, and Brasilia, the new capital in the tropical central highlands – which is where we are.
We’re looking for one or two people to live with us for a while and work alongside us on a variety of projects - permaculture, gardening, bio-construction, advanced composting, and working with bamboo. We offer room and board in exchange for a few hours of work a day. You pay your own round trip fare to Brasilia, we pick you up at the airport, show you around, assist you with practical matters, help you learn Portuguese if you wish. If you’d like to know more, please email me at gretabrowne@gmail.com.   


              ___________________________________________


April 13, 2014

Another two months have lapsed without a new post. We completed our part of the video that Guy helped produce for the eleven-year celebration of my son’s language school in Brasilia (http://www.naturalenglish.com.br/11anos.html). The video comprised part of the March 21 party, an elegant affair with gourmet finger-foods, an amazing array of beverages – from tropical fruit juices to bubbly wine, beer and Johnny Walker Red Label. In addition to the video there were skits highlighting the various languages and activities the school offers, a learning-oriented bingo game, prizes, and finally informal ballroom dancing, a sine qua non for Brazilians.

Fofo on the roof
Some of you already know about Fofo, the kitten that showed up the morning after we turned over the video for final production. We’d been working 10-12 hour days and weren’t sure what to do with ourselves next. So a sweet playful kitten was just the ticket. We have no idea from whence he came – we live in the country, tucked away and hidden from the road, with no neighbors closer than half a mile. He likes to climb on top of the house to watch birds and stay safe when we’re not around, and he’s a good mouse-catcher, a real benefit here in the country.

Quaresma flowers announce the dry season.
In the meantime the rains picked up after the semi-drought in late January and early February, and we’re now secure in our water supply for the next few months, as the dry season arrives later this month and lasts until October. The creeks are running full, and here and there the water table has broken through the surface of our hilly plateau, at the northern lip of the La Plata watershed. Already the quaresmeiras blossom along the borders of the woods. The dirt road that connects our land to the asphalt road about five miles away is full of huge puddles and deep ruts but still passable.

Two siriemas (roadrunners) on the upper corner
of our property
We have begun to prepare for the second phase of our house-building project. This time, instead of hiring a local crew to build in the current squared-off manner, with hollow bricks, concrete, a wood structure, and cement-tile roof, we want to build the house ourselves, with the earth components we have in abundance on site – clay, sand, water, straw (perhaps some cow patties mixed in), stone, and bamboo. We’re considering cob, a material that even a small seventy-year-old woman can wield, and we‘ll build only one or two rooms to start out, since it’s easy to add on. The hand-sculpted house: a philosophical and practical guide to building a cob cottage, by Ianto Evans, Linda Smiley, and Michael Smith, is the main resource for our planning, so far.

Clearing the area, just above (west) the current house, where we will build our cob house.













Ipê tree stripped by ants - just a thin stem left.
Pocã tree stripped by ants.





















The two last nights red cutter-ants (formiga saúva) have decimated two of our young trees, stripping them down to bare branches. One was a volunteer native plant, an ipê, that I was thinking of sacrificing anyway since it was too near the path and didn’t fit into my orchard scheme. But the other was a pocã, a large loose skinned tangerine, that planted last year. I think it will survive but I suspect we’ve lost a year of fruit from it. Tonight we’re prepared, with ant bait to lay by the side of their path. They should ‘discover’ it and carry it back to their lair instead of the targeted leaves – and it will destroy them. We’d avoid the carnage if they weren’t such a menace to our orchard, but all our sources tell us that we must get rid of them. Fortunately the ant bait is organic so we don’t have to use a chemical pesticide.

Cut leaves left by ants who work mainly at night.
This little ant is finishing up during the day.
The entrance to the ant house we hope to de-activate tonight.




Loufa gourds.

Welcome.
Babaçu trees.




Guy and his carrot - destined for a stir-fry tonight.

Avocados, lemons cherry tomatoes, red bode peppers, bishop hat pepper, carrot ...







Sunday, February 9, 2014

Summer doldrums (sort of)


   
                              ______________________________________________

Would you like to spend a few months in Brazil this year? Even if you’re not a soccer fan, 2014 promises to be an exciting year to visit the land of Pele, samba, Rio, the old capital with its lovely beaches, and Brasilia, the new capital in the tropical central highlands – which is where we are.

We’re looking for one or two people to live with us for a while and work alongside us on a variety of projects - permaculture, gardening, bio-construction, advanced composting, and working with bamboo. We offer room and board in exchange for a few hours of work a day. You pay your own round trip fare to Brasilia, we pick you up at the airport, show you around, assist you with practical matters, help you learn Portuguese if you wish. If you’d like to know more, please email me at gretabrowne@gmail.com.   

              ___________________________________________

February 8, 2014

This entry is long overdue – it’s been two months since my last post. The holidays, health issues, an ongoing video project in Brasilia and the sense that nothing very important was happening here – all contributed to the long silence on the Cerrado Permaculture Blog.

However there is evidence that a lot was going on underground. Trees and vines that seemed to be dormant have sprouted new leaves, branches and tendrils. When I dig down in the garden I find big fat worms.

Passion fruit vine stretching up
New foliage on an orange tree

Loofah plant sending out its tendrils
















And the activists’ hunger for justice, here in Brazil, that seemed to have fallen back asleep after a few huge demonstrations last May and June, also shows signs of life, sprouting up here and there, as in the streets of Rio this week to protest a public transportation fare increase. We’re watching anxiously to see whether the anger that is simmering – against endless corruption in the public administration, huge inequalities in the distribution of wealth, and the violence that comes with poverty and the vested interests that feel threatened – we’re watching to see if the simmering will turn to boiling as the World Cup draws closer.

Wasn’t the idea of Olympic Games and other international sporting events to encourage friendship and cultural exchange between nations? To channel the competitive spirit into sports and away from war? What is happening? I won’t try to answer such a momentous issue in this space, but I raise the question because abundance and fairness versus poverty and vested interests give a sense of urgency to our permaculture efforts. We are a part of the world-wide movement seeking for better ways to live – more sustainable, more local, in greater harmony with nature.

A fresh batch of compost
Mustard greens and other veggies planted directly in manure

Loquat tree (front left), castor plant (center), two coffee trees (back)

















A hot dry spell here on the Planalto – the Central Brazilian Highlands, where it usually rains steadily from November through March – raises another issue – climate change. The city of  São Paulo – on the Tropic of Capricorn five hundred miles south of us, and at an altitude of 2600 feet versus our 3600 - endured one of the hottest Januaries on the books. News commentary linked the very hot temperatures here in the southern hemisphere with the very cold temps in the northern hemisphere, due to the way the cold air currents from the melting Artic ice cover push the air over the US and to the south in new patterns.

At our higher altitude we haven’t felt the heat as much, daytime highs stay mostly in the 80’s year round, but I know that vast parts of Brazil to the north and east of us are threatened with drought and desertification. To the south and west more rains are forecast for years to come. We’re in between, right smack on the continental divide between the watersheds of the Amazon to the North and the Plata to the South.


Mist rising from the hay in the morning sun




It rained as I wrote, an unexpected and very welcome rain – just over ¼ inch at once. Without the rain the earth bakes in the sun where it’s exposed. But the green of woods, pasture and fruit trees surrounds us. Flowers bloom and fruit ripens. We're still counting our success in very small numbers - a flower here, a ripe tomato there, three green oranges, a dozen green lemons.






Today Sofia and I harvested one of the manioc plants we planted fourteen months ago.
This is the first agroforesty area we planted, on Dec 1, 2012. 




                         
Manioc (cassava, yuca) sauteed with onion, garlic and tumeric

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Permaculture experiment


November 5, 2013

The permaculture experiment continues. Since we moved onto the property just a little over a year ago we’re still working mainly on the first and second zones.
According to Peter Bane, The Permaculture Handbook: Garden Farming for Town and Country (2012):

Zones describe a progression of territories surrounding the center of a system. On a homestead or farm, that center is typically the house where people dwell. 
 Zone 0: House and attached structures, other building interiors, pantry consumption, processing, storage

Zone I: Garden, intensive garden beds, laundry and drying yard, woodshed, garden, tool storage, small greenhouse, piped water, outdoor rooms, summer kitchen, rabbits, poultry, children’s play; animals needing special care; (z. 1 or z. 2) root cellar, cisterns, sauna self-reliance, household provision

Zone 2: Orchard, productive fruit trees and shrubs, piped water, small ponds, poultry forage, compost piles, greywater treatment, dairy barn (at the edge of z. 3), workshop, storage barn, mulch crops, nursery crops, living fences, resource inventory, tank aquaculture 

Zones 1 and 2 around our house.

Zone 3 contains fields, zone 4 pastures, and zone five wild areas. Our property is on the small side, about one acre. Sometimes I think there’s enough to do in the first two zones that we’ll never even get beyond them.

One of the good things about permaculture is that it encourages taking things slowly and proclaims that if you’re working too hard it’s because you’re doing something wrong. Peter Bane continues:         
              
Choose Small and Slow Solutions: Choosing to work with small, slow technologies and systems may seem paradoxical in the face of daunting social change. Shouldn’t we hurry up and get ready? Well yes, civilizational decline and economic contraction should engender in us a kind of urgency. It need not provoke haste. Most people are still sleepwalking toward the future, so it can seem that we must awaken them in a hurry. But haste and the waste it makes are the hallmarks of our energy-abundant culture and the cause of much of our present distress.

Small and slow means local, human-scale, intimate and familiar. It means steady progress and setbacks that do not ruin us. It means appropriate technology: tools that help us but do not enslave us.  (The Permaculture Handbook: Garden Farming for Town and Country)

Here are some of our small and slow projects:

Trees – We’ve planted a few more trees since we returned to the farm in August, namely two neem saplings (native to India, this regal tree produces leaves and fruit that repel many insects, making it a good addition to orchards and vegetable garden areas), two coffee saplings (to replace two that didn’t survive from last year), and a bamboo plant (of the enormous variety that in ten years or so will produce poles strong enough to build a house).

One of our two neem trees (in the foreground).
A thriving coffee sapling, behind the corn and squash.

Hortas (the Portuguese word for vegetable garden)  - Guy has rebuilt last year’s horseshoe garden following Mel Bartholomew’s Square Foot Gardening principles, including a soil mix of compost, palm fibre, and vermiculite – we plant the vegetables in six inches of this mix, above the existing ground. Last year most of our vegetables failed to thrive in the local soil even though we added some organic fertilizers such as manure.

The horseshoe garden
In the meantime, I planted some of the same veggies in manure that I seasoned by spreading it in the sun and watering it for five days. So far both gardens are doing well.

Orange tree planted in early 2013.

Orchard – Guy and I agreed from the start that we wouldn’t sacrifice beauty to functionality. We’d seen several gardens and orchards where plants grew well but the surrounding areas were unattractive, unpleasant to walk through.

Last year my daughter and I designed a small tear-drop orchard that would be divided into five sections. This is where we’ve planted most of our trees so far – papaya, lemon, pomegranate, fig, orange, tangerine, coffee, persimmon, nespera, pitanga and jatobá - and there’s still place for many more. We projected paths that would cut through the orchard and a central trellised area for repose and meditation. I’ve been cleaning up the sections and working on the paths (described below).

Agro-forestry practitioners instruct us to plant vegetables and other edible plants, such as cassava (mandioca) amidst the trees as they begin to grow, planting in guilds as much as possible. (See the December 2012 blog entry) We’re just learning, partly by trial and error, but this year we have corn, squash, beans, tomatoes, okra and peppers growing in the orchard, along with the cassava and castor beans we planted last year.

Cassava from a year ago and new corn amid the tangerine, papaya, pomegranate and lemon trees. 

Grass – The area we’ve settled on was mostly pasture, planted with a very tenacious grass of African origin – brachiaria. As you may remember from previous posts (April 2013), one of Guy’s tasks is to cut the grass with his wonderful Austrian steel scythe, a huge job given the vigorous growth of the brachiaria grass. Since the rains started up a month ago the grass has taken off, threatening to go to seed, which is exactly what we want to avoid. We can’t use the grass for mulch once it contains seeds and even when it’s added to the compost the seeds remain active for a long time. (Hurray for the power of seeds!)

From our front porch, late afternoon sun on babaçu palms. Beyond the fence the cows have kept the grass 'mowed.'








  
I’m encouraging Guy to think of his work as harvesting the grass. Before it seeds, it is a real resource for us as hay, biomass. I use it to mulch the tear-drop orchard, to suppress grass in the open areas, and we use it elsewhere as mulch and as an addition to the compost piles.     
       
Paths – Between Guy’s ideas and mine we’ve come up with a very attractive and inexpensive way to create paths. We’ve found along the highway just beyond Cocalzinho (the nearest town) a free source of beautiful red wood chips. I hoe the paths clear, line them with cardboard (free from the supermarkets in town) and newspaper, make a border of flat rocks (picked up along the road where they’ve spilled from passing trucks) or small bricks we buy in town for less than 10 cents apiece (not so cheap but the only thing we pay for), and fill in with wood chips. Guy plans to use the same system to surround the horseshoe garden. 


The first section of path.

Insect combat – A constant threat to our tender plants, ants, grasshoppers, cut-worms, and other insects we don’t even know about keep us on our toes from one day to the next. Suddenly last week Guy noticed a cluster of tiny black grasshoppers on a leaf of a jiló plant. (Jiló is a small green eggplant relative, somewhat bitter but delicious once you get used to it and know how to prepare it – sautéed and browned with onion and garlic.) He successfully sprayed the leaf and the surrounding plants with a neem solution, but since then the clusters of little hoppers have shown up frequently on other plants.
We’re learning to make a variety of deterrent sprays along with the neem: garlic and soap, hot peppers, tobacco, for starts. Vigilance – we’re insect vigilantes.