Lime. Oh lime. So versatile. So useful. But sometimes so difficult to know which kind you’re buying. You may remember my beginners' guide to different kinds of lime I penned last time. Sometimes though, all the CaOs and NHLs in the world won’t help you, because  you live in a place that doesn’t regulate too carefully, and your lime turns up in mysterious dog-eared bags which inspire anything but confidence.

In that case you can always do what Gautam Singh in Mumbai did. Cut out the middle man, and make it yourself. He shared his process in our members' only  Facebook Group last week, and I think it's fabulous.

“Unsure and concerned about of the quality of lime we were purchasing, especially for some tadelakt work, we made a small kiln to make our own lime,” says Gautam, who is still battling on with plaster work over there in Mumbai. I’ve got to hand it to him, he’s not a quitter:)

“It's specifically for tadelakt,” he says, and “I’m happy to say it works, and wasn’t too complicated or time consuming either.” Oh...music to my ears!

How did they create their own quick lime?
First Gautam and his friends built the kiln out of cob (see above). Next, he collected a bunch of oyster and clam shells from seafood sellers. You don't crush the shells, they are left whole so they are easy to identify post burning, because the entire burned shell will be converted into Calcium Oxide or pure lime.

“Research stated the shells needed to be fired between 800-1200℃. Any less and it wouldn't have the reaction that turns it into lime, and any more would melt the shells," he informed us.

I asked him how he measured the temperature. "Figuring out the temperature was tricky at first, but luckily a professional potter friend came to the rescue and we used a thermocouple to measure the temperature for the first two trials. After that it became easier because then I knew it took between 40-60 mins to achieve that 800-1200 degrees required for my kiln."

Initial Troubles
In the beginning Gautam thought he'd failed. But in fact it's a good example of how things are sometimes not what they appear. "After our first firing attempt, we went through the burnt matter, extracted all the shells and put them in a pot. Then we tried adding water. But there was no reaction!”

Our pioneer thought perhaps he hadn’t fired the shells at a high enough temperature. He prepared his kiln for a second attempt. It was then he chanced upon a golden nugget of online information advising the use of warm water (not cold) to slake the burnt shells. The Mumbai team decided to try it.

“So we used the same shells, added warm water and voila! It started boiling and reacting violently,” he says.

To test the lime, the team made a limecrete brick out of the slaked lime and crushed bricks. They allowed it to cure completely.

“That brick has been lying completely submerged in a bucket of water for over two months now. It's hard as a rock, completely unaffected by the water,” says Gautam.

Fantastic! The Mumbai crew have now kilned more batches seashells and are slaking them for a nice long time to create the optimum lime putty. They added jaggery and haritaki seeds (terminalia chebula) to the mix, because this lime will be used for a special type of Indian tadelakt known as araish.

As Gautam explains, "Traditionally in India, sand was rarely used with lime...Crushed bricks (essentially burnt mud including a certain amount of clay) are used with lime for mortars, plasters, etc with no need of sand whatsoever. This includes the Taj Mahal and various other ancient structures still standing.”

I also used crushed bricks in a limecrete in Turkey, and can attest that it creates a wonderful crete. This is because crushed bricks are a pozzolan (a burned material such as ash) that creates a reaction which hardens the lime. But I'll stop right there, because I’m delving deeper into the wonderful world of Indian lime plaster next time.

For those wanting to contact Gautam and learn more about his project, MudWorks is just beginning.

Making Lime from Scratch - An Overview

1. Build a kiln from cob, or some other material that can stand 1000 degrees heat.
2. Collect some oyster/clam shells, or limestone (see video below).
3. Light a fire in your kiln and add your limestone/shells. Get the temperature up to between 800 and 1200 degrees.
4. Extract the shells (if using) and put them in a vat.
5. Put on protective clothing (mask, goggles, gloves, onesie etc)
6. Add warm water to the burned shells and watch the mixture bubble and throth. Be careful. Lime is caustic and can burn.
7. The longer you leave that substance slaking (submerged in plenty of water), the better quality lime you get.

Mr Primitive Survival has a video about doing all this with limestone, which is also rather funky.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r39dvtQBs44

I have to say, despite my better efforts at being a hermit, my favourite creation of 2018 is in fact a community (life has a sense of humour). When I created The Mud Home Facebook Group last year, I didn't really know how it would pan out. In fact if I remember rightly, I was half-dreading it. I don't enjoy forums at the best of times. There is all too often an energy of competition rather than collaboration. So it was with no small measure of trepidation that I added the Facebook Group as a tier on my Patreon campaign. Because I knew the only way I could tolerate an online community without flirting with homicide was if it was small, kind-hearted, and helpful.

Well well. Here we are over a year on. What I got was all of the above, and a lot lot more. Most of the people in our lovely group are insanely talented, adventurous, and inspiring. They make me look like a bumbling novice half the time:)) Not that they would ever say that, because they are so supportive. But ain't that always the way? Competent and brave people have little to prove, so they can afford to be generous.

So if you'd like to be surrounded by and connect in a meaningful way with a community of kind, brave, inspiring folk making some crazy stuff happen, plus get detailed help on your own project from me, plus see what I'm up to on my land, I invite you to join us. This has got to be one of the most inexpensive masterclass type environments I've seen.

​So I’ve shifted from a hot, dry climate to a cooler, wet one. And it’s a radically different ball game. Slugs replace aphids. Mould occludes drought issues. I’m once again swatted by the importance of climate-specific information. But where to find it?
 
As you’ve probably worked out by now, I take most advice with a shedload of salt. If you can’t show me hard evidence of success, take cover. But, when it comes to a burgeoning garden in a wet climate, I know a woman who knows. Let me hand over to the eloquent Kristen Krash of Sueño de Vida in Ecuador for her hard-won tips.

I Imagined Endless Crops - I Was Wrong

When I first landed at my new home on seven acres of sub-tropical cloud forest, I was ecstatic. It was dry August and the sun shone in the bright blue sky, innocent of the ferocity to come. I blithely surveyed the lush verdant grasses, giant ferns, and vining leaves with satisfaction. I was an avid and accomplished gardener back in North America, with its short as and snowy winters. Now, here, in this Jurassic Park of eternal summer, I imagined the undulating green land heaving forth endless crops of fruits and vegetables.
 
Ah, what did I know? Not much.

Two months later I was despondent. It had started raining. A lot. Daily. Sub-tropical cloud forest rain, with drops big enough to fill a teacup, hammered the ground. My tender (wimpy) little salad crops that has sprouted up so eagerly, were battered to total ruin in a matter of days. The heavy soil, which I had laboriously scratched out the matted grass and dug and turned in the way that worked back in my good old wintry climes, turned a slippery, clay-ey sludge, more suitable to plastering the earthbag walls of the house we were building. Even worse, the fifty or so fruit trees we had planted under sunny summer skies now looked awful. Their roots waterlogged, rust spots pocked the leaves and monstrous slugs and snails descended on what was left.
 
I felt like, and was, a complete failure. But nature abhors a vacuum, right? And what I had was not a "bad" climate, but a vacuum of knowledge of how to deal with it.
 
Fast forward two years and those struggling trees are not only alive, but flowering and
fruiting and communing. I'm harvesting fifteen-pound pumpkin squash from my garden, slicing and dicing mountains of cassava and plantain, hauling in bunches of a hundred or more bananas, roasting my own cacao beans, making teas and tinctures with herbs I've grown and getting my greens from from the Malabar spinach plants sprawling pretty much everywhere.
 
So obviously I learned to thrive in, and love, my wet wonderful home.

6 Steps to Succeeding in a Wet Climate
 
Wet climates pose special challenges to the gardener/grower: fungus, mildew, tight heavy soils leached of nutrients by heavy rains, and enough creeping, crawling, voracious critters to eat up your crops in a single sitting. But there are methods that work and don't involve mixing chemicals. My experience rising to these challenges is limited to the subtropical region of Ecuador, but I think much of what I learned here could be helpful in a temperate zone as well.
 
1. Give your plants time. Everything you plant out will at first look like it's dying. It might be, but probably not. Plants take awhile to "take hold" in wet soils. I think the roots get a little waterlogged and crushed and then some leaves might turn black or yellow or get rust spots and the plant will look generally awful. Give it time. It will either die or get stronger and healthy.
 
2. Don't get attached. Plant a LOT of small plants or seeds. They won't all make it, but that's okay. The weaker ones will serve as "bait" food for the slugs, snails, and other critters who attack the weaker plants first, giving the stronger ones more of a chance. You can even transplant some soft-leaf "weeds" close to your cultivars to "feed" the slugs so they leave your garden plants alone, or at least don't kill them entirely.

3. Be gentle. Don't turn the soil a whole lot trying to aerate it. I did that in the beginning and it's a waste of time and energy, and actually counterproductive. Wet soils have usually more clay and a fairly shallow topsoil (rain leaches it off). By turning it you're just pretty much making plaster. Good for houses, not so much for plants.
 
The key is piling up organic matter on top of gently opened soil and planting in the looser pile, not digging down. You can use compost or cut grass or chopped up leaves and soft branches from weeds, trees you've pruned. It's less work to pile up organic material than digging heavy soil and it works better.
 
4. Use Compost! Rust and mildew thrive in wet, tight soil. Create drainage by opening the soil around the tree gently with a pitchfork and put the compost on top. Don't disturb the root system of the tree digging around too much. The compost will attract worms and burrowing insects to come up to the surface and eat the compost. This creates channels in the soil, improves drainage, and aerates it naturally. The bugs also poop, which is good fertiliser.

5. Don't be a clean freak. Look, I think Martha Stewart is the bees knees, but in a wet climate garden, you gotta live and let live. Leaving weeds around is fine for your plants, as long as they aren't choking them. The weeds also provide food for all the fungi and mildews in wet soil so that all those organisms have other targets than your plants.
 
6. Adapt. Grow what thrives in your climate. Don't kill yourself trying nursing a cactus garden under plastic in the rain forest. I have a nursery where I keep some temperate clime herbs in containers, but it's not my mainstay. Let go of perceived attachments to foods you think you need (because it's all you know) and learn to grow new ones. Nature adapts; you are part of nature. So you will too.

Kristen Krash is the co-creator of Sueño de Vida, a nature conservation centre, permaculture farm, and natural building experiment in the cloud forest of Ecuador. To learn more about the mission, courses offered, work exchange opportunities, and land for sale at Sueño de Vida, see their website at http://www.suenodevida.org/our-dream/

​If you find these posts inspiring, useful, or both, please chip in to support The Mud Home on Patreon. It takes time to compile quality posts, and costs a lot of money to run the site and all its extra services. For just $2 a month you get a behind-the-scenes look at how I’m building my own off-grid world in northern Spain. All patrons enjoy email priority and have access to an exclusive monthly video from my land.

Those planning their own builds, wanting to ask in-depth questions and enjoy more  support should seriously consider joining The Mud Home Facebook too. It’s an inexpensive way to get advice from me and other experienced builders, and join a supportive, inspiring, and non-competitive community.

Many thanks to the Mud Sustainers already supporting The Mud Home and making these articles possible.

​If you’re only going to read one post on roofing for earthbag, make it this one. Remember our brave and successful earthbag lovers in Costa Rica? Here’s how they constructed their roof, step by step. Earthbag roofing options are plentiful, but this design is original, strong, and lovely. I’m very grateful to Murat Dirlik for sharing his methodology and photos in such detail in our Facebook group. It demonstrates perfectly how to deal with the issue of outward pressure or “splay” in earthbag roofing options. 

The Design
Sam and Leora are in the closing phase of their wonderful earthbag home in Costa Rica. The couple wanted a beautiful roof to cover a circular structure. With their building buddy Murat, they decided on an octagonal design. They didn't want any permanent posts inside, and wanted to include a cupola to help move all the hot air out of the space.
 
“Knowing these factors, splay was obviously a concern, as the roof would put a significant outward pressure on the walls... the direction in which they are weakest,” says site foreman Murat Dirlik, who has documented the build for us in superb detail.
 
I’m quoting Murat throughout this post, because I really love the way he has shared the details of his thought process as he goes along. It shows how good builders modify and adapt as the mental plan hits physical reality. I’ve never seen anything work in practice exactly how people plan in their minds, and for me this is the most exciting part of construction and off-grid world creation. You have to work with nature, with materials, with time, with money, with people, and with weather. This alchemy creates something wholly unique.

Location-Dependent Factors
“We are building in Costa Rica, just to put things in context,” says Murat. “It's hot, rainy, and earthquake prone here. Because of these factors we used a lot of rebar in our walls... in a photo or two you can see little x's on the bags, which designate where we drove rebar down into the runs of bags below, roughly a meter or so. The x's are staggered and the rebar runs lower than the preceding ones, to properly integrate them all. Marking them (x is where the top of each rebar ends) was essential to us knowing where the previous ones were placed, since the following line of bags covered all evidence. Of course we used barbed wire as well.”

The Bond Beam
 “We have access to a lot of local teak, so we used it for our bond beam instead of cement, which we are avoiding for countless reasons. I was unsure how well this would work, but we had enough slightly curved pieces that we were able to tie them all together in an octagon without jutting past the parameters set by the wall's thickness and its curve. These beams were pinned at opposing angles with rebar down into the walls, and into each other. This was tricky as the bags couldn't be too wet or too dry, but we pulled it off.”
 
I think Murat’s bond beam is superb, and is exactly how you want to create a bond beam on a circular house. Just a note: It is possible if you are building a small earthbag round house, and adding a roof where the pressure pushes completely down rather than outwards, to omit the bond beam (I did in my Mud Home in Turkey. It has survived many quakes now). 

The Pitch of the Roof
The team didn’t want the roof to be over-pitched. In the end the pitch was roughly 5/12. Because of the bond beam, rebar and general structural competence of the house, Murat was right to feel he was off to a good start. “So I got to working on the initial ring for up top,” he says. “I did a mock up on the ground to make the work easier and finished the ring (bolted at joints - perhaps unnecessary with all of the compression enacted by the rafters, but seemed like a good idea) and then did all of the rafter mortising on the ground as well. In retrospect, as much as this allowed for clean work and pretty joints, I think perhaps on this next roof I'll do that work up top just to get things moving faster.”

The Cupola and Rafters
So Murat and the team hoisted the ring up onto some temporary planks, up onto the tower of power, and installed the rafters.
 
“The rafters are bolted through the ring and down into the teak, and also rebarred down into the walls through the bond beam. You can see in one photo how we had to add little chunks of teak instead of going directly through the bond beam. This was because of the octagon of the bond beam vs the roundness of the walls, as well as the varying thicknesses of our framing. We sort of just went for it, adding stuff where needed and simply making sure that everything was well fastened together with rebar in pretty much every direction we could put it.”

The Extra Tension Cable
“I also decided to put a cable around the whole thing to keep the roof snug... you can see it in the pictures. We basically drove the rebar through all of the rafters leaving about 10cm sticking out, and then ran a cable around the outside of them all, tightening with a turnbuckle, and pounded the rebar down over the cable to pin it in place. I now believe this wasn't necessary, but it is another little back up element that adds to the anti-splay needs.”

Overhangs and Counter-Balancing the Outward Force Exerted by the Roof
“Once the 8 primary rafters were up it seemed pretty stable, but certainly still moved about a bit. I pulled the planks to see what happened because sometimes I just can't help myself, and it stayed put nicely.”
 
Yay! I always recommend a good kick, pull or shove to check an earthbag house for structural integrity. You can immediately feel if the thing is locked in or not.

“Secondary rafters, cross ties, etc. went up next. I tried to design this roof to have almost as much weight outside as inside, to put more of a downward pressure on the walls.”
 
You pro Murat! Totally correct thinking. This is exactly how our carpenter in Turkey formed the massive reciprocal roof on a workshop build we did there.
 
“The soffits are about 120 cm... we needed big overhangs anyway because of the rains here, so they counterbalance fairly well. To add to this I put the thick ends of the teak at the bottom, where the extra weight also furthered my plan. Finally, the cross ties that carry the secondary rafters are as low down the primary rafters as possible (in terms of the acceptable span for the ceiling tablilla) to put less roof weight and material on the part of its structure that is within the walls. Any of this make sense? Hope so!”
 
Crystal clear to me, and very sound reasoning.
 
“I would say we ended up with maybe a hopeful 35% of the roof's weight outside of the walls? So nowhere near half, but still nicely counterbalances and eliminates a decent bit of that outward push.”

Ceiling Boards
“Then we put down the 3/8 tongue and groove ceiling boards, the insulation, and the 2x2 nailers for the metal roofing. Notice the purlins for the metal are fastened to little 2x2 cleats instead of directly to the ceiling boards. This was to create a larger air space between the ceiling and the metal in order to move more air through the roof and out the top. With every step the roof became more and more sturdy, and once the metal went down I felt like we had totally pulled it off. It is one big monolithic hunka chunka that seems to not want to go anywhere.”
 
If I could say one thing about sensing intuitively whether your earthbag home is structurally sound, it would be that it should feel like one massive monolithic hunka chunka that has no intention of moving anywhere:))

“Many of the fasteners used in putting a house together are really just needed to hold things in place while you build, as once all is integrated things aren't going anywhere regardless of the fasteners," concludes Murat.
 
Yup. Once everything is locked in, the downward pressure of the roof, and the interlocking strength of the earthbag structure, make it incredibly strong.

Once again, many thanks to Murat Dirlik for his superb documenting of this roof construction. If you want a beautiful natural house built, you can connect with Murat on Facebook.
 
My 4 beginners’ ground rules for getting your earthbag roof right:
 
1. Is your roof structure pushing outwards or downwards? If it’s only downwards you have little to worry about and may, on small circular structures, get away without a bond beam. You always need a bond beam if you have straight walls.
 
2. If your roof pushes outwards as well as downwards, you need a bond beam, and possibly buttresses/rebar. In addition you need either trusses (to pull the roof back inwards and thus exert some pressure in the opposite direction), or counter-balancing roof weight with overhangs outside of the walls (as Murat did).
 
3. Your rafters need to be firmly anchored to your roof. You can do this by driving rebar into the bond beam (as Murat did), or by nailing the rafters to pillows and nailing or rebarring the pillows into your earthbags (as I did).
 
4. If you live in a place prone to high winds that could potentially lift off your roof (I’ve seen this happen, be warned), you can run ropes through your earthbag walls and cinch your rafters down.
 
For my beginners’ guide to roofs for earthbag houses, go here.

If you find these posts inspiring, useful, or both, please chip in to support The Mud Home on Patreon. It takes time to compile quality posts, and costs a lot of money to run the site and all its extra services. For just $2 a month you get a behind-the-scenes look at how I’m building my own off-grid world in northern Spain. All patrons enjoy email priority and have access to an exclusive monthly video from my land.

Those planning their own builds, wanting to ask in-depth questions and enjoy more in-depth support should seriously consider joining The Mud Home Facebook too. It’s an inexpensive way to get advice from me and other experienced builders, and join a supportive, inspiring, and non-competitive community.

Many thanks to the Mud Sustainers already supporting The Mud Home and making these articles possible. ​

I love lime because its has such an extraordinary number of benefits: It’s a fungicide, insecticide, and if you live in a damp climate, lime draws the humidity out of your building like nothing else can. Unlike Portland cement it doesn’t hold the damp, so your walls never suffer the dreadful cold clamminess of concrete. It breathes. It’s non-toxic. And it’s also superbly versatile. You can use it as a crete, with hemp to make bricks, in floors, on walls, and also of course as a paint (lime wash).

Lime wash (also sometimes called whitewash) is simply lime mixed with water. Depending on the quality of the lime you can get your hands on, you may need an additive to prevent dustiness too (you can read more about that here).

The only issue you may experience with lime wash is that it’s...well...white. Stark white.
So when Sophie Hunter added this picture of her amazing lime paint work in The Mud Home Closed Facebook group, I naturally sat up and paid attention. 

​You may remember Sophie and Hakan who are constructing a wonderful stone, mud and horse paradise in Spain. Sophie is incredibly creative, and never afraid to experiment. She’s also very generous in sharing her the results of her trials. But before I tell you her secret recipe, here are the basics:

How to make lime paint (the basics):
1. Make a simple lime wash by mixing hydrated lime with water. For best results use lime putty and slowly mix or whisk in water.

2. Worry less about numbers and exact ratios, and more about consistency. You want your lime wash to be roughly the consistency of milk.

3. The primer coat is always more watery to help it adhere to the wall, the second coat is a little thicker, and the top coat is thinner again.

No putty? How to use powdered hydrated lime
If you’re out in the sticks and stuck for choice (I hear you, I’ve been there) you can also use powdered hydrated lime and slake it (ie. let it soak in a big vat of water). Do be careful when doing this - lime is caustic and can burn, so you need protective clothing, gloves, goggles etc. The longer you leave the lime in the water, the better quality putty it will form. A few days is good; two weeks is better. Soon it will look like thick Greek yoghurt, and you can dig it out of your vat with a spade, and then use it just like the shop-bought putty.

4. Now you are ready to experiment with colour!

Testing is crucial.

Pour your freshly made lime wash into a number of separate pots. Take a selection of mineral pigments, add them to the lime wash pots, and leave them to ‘set’ for a few hours. 

You may find you need quite different amounts of each pigment to achieve the same depth of colour. In Sophie’s case, she needed a quarter of the amount of the red pigment than she did of the green. 

 5. Dampen your wall either by spraying it with water or sponging it (lime will continue to draw water, so if your substrate isn’t moist enough it will dry too fast and crack).

6. Now take your various colour pots and make a number of test patches on your wall. Do note: When you first apply the coloured lime wash it will appear a lot darker than it will when it dries.

7. The next day, take stock of the final result and adjust your pigment to lime wash ratio accordingly.

Sophie’s Own Magic Formula:
• Take your lime putty and mix with water until creamy. The first coat will be a thinner mixture. The second coat will be thicker.

• Add a squirt of dishwashing liquid (Sophie doesn’t know why, and neither do I. Maybe it's to make it easier to apply?)

• Add a little bit of wheat paste: Approximately 1 cup per 5-litre bucket of lime paint. (This will bind the paint and prevent it rubbing off and staining your clothes or skin later, when dry).

• Mix the pigment (the amount you deduced in your tests) with a small amount of your lime wash and combine very well. Then add this concentrated sample to your main bucket of lime wash and mix again.

Tip: Sophie always adds a bit of dark brown or black into her colours to reduce the lightness, otherwise she finds they look too much like ice-cream parlour colours 😏

• Spray the wall, paint it, then wait a few hours or overnight and observe the result.

If you want to make your painting experience more enjoyable, Sophie recommends adding a few drops of essential oils into the mixtures before painting, (she likes orange for a good mood, or lavender to calm down, or ylang-ylang to keep her confident).

​Total cost of Sophie's paint experiment: €15 with lots of leftover lime powder and pigments. Probably €3 for the entire wall.

How to Paint an Ombré Wall with Lime Paint

Okay so you’ve got the hang of lime paint and have created some gorgeous tones. Now you want to really impress your friends and create an ombré wall.

Not sure what ombré is?
Ombré is a paint job that changes gradually from one tone to another (take a look at my Pinterest Board for more examples). The tone change on Sophie’s wall is so subtle that you might not realise from the photo that the colour is actually changing, and assume it’s natural shadow instead, but I can assure you, that’s ombré.

1. Choose the colours you want and test them (as above) so that you know the exact colour intensity when dry. For this paint technique, you could use just one colour and lighten it or darken it as you go, or you could choose two or more colours which will then fade into one another. The world really is your ombré oyster.

2. Make a paint the thickness of creamy milk (a little more watery for the first layer).

​3. Add the pigments to the lime wash and let them set for a few hours.

4. Spray your wall with water, then apply a base coat of your pigmented paint. Don’t forget, the initial colour will be nothing like the finished result, so don’t panic. Trust the colour tests you’ve already done. This is the first coat, so the colour doesn’t matter too much at this stage, but at least when it dries it will give you a better idea of what’s going on.

5. For the second coat, start from the top and work down, otherwise you’ll see all the drops of paint that have leaked.
​
6. For simplicity’s sake, I’m imagining you’re going from dark to light. Have a bucket with your vibrant darker colour and another bucket with white wash. You are going to be painting strips of varying colours across your wall. Each colour strip will be approximately 15 cm high. Again, for a better idea of what I mean, check out my Pinterest board.

7. Take your pigmented paint and paint the top 15 cm strip. This is your darkest (or most vibrant) section of wall.

8. Add a small amount of white wash to your pigmented batch and paint a second, slightly lighter band just below your first.

9. Continue painting increasingly lighter strips by adding a bit more white each time (keep the amount of whitewash you add proportionally the same each time for a smooth ombré effect). NOTE: At this point, you will not be able to see the colour changing. You need to trust the process.
​
10. Wait overnight for it to dry and wake up to a great wall!

Many thanks to Sophie Hunter for sharing her tips. You can follow her inspiring life with her horses and stone cabanas on Facebook.

If you find these posts inspiring, useful, or both, consider chipping in to support The Mud Home on Patreon. It takes quite a while to compile quality posts, and costs a lot of money to run. For just $2 a month you get a behind-the-scenes look at how I’m building my own off-grid world in northern Spain. All patrons also enjoy email priority and now also have access to an exclusive monthly video from my land.

Those planning their own builds, wanting to ask in-depth questions and get more support should seriously consider joining The Mud Home Facebook too. It’s an inexpensive way to get advice from me and other experienced builders, and join a supportive, inspiring, and non-competitive community.

Many thanks to the Mud Sustainers already supporting The Mud Home and making these articles possible.

I love bamboo. It’s tough, light, adaptable, and economical. It’s ridiculously sustainable too, and grows so fast you’ll be hard pushed to outbuild it. There have been some incredible structures made entirely from bamboo; bridges, schools, lecture halls. Sadly, I’ve never lived in a country with bamboo so haven’t been able to use it, and I’ve long wondered how tricky it is to actually build with. Luckily I know a man who can. Remember Oliver Goshey from The Abundant Edge? He has kindly answered some questions on building with bamboo.

Q: How easy is it to build with bamboo? What are the pros and cons? Have you any tips for new bamboo builders?
 
A: Bamboo is a remarkable and tricky material. It has millions of benefits for building and also for applications in the garden and in larger landscape design. I’m still a complete novice as a bamboo worker but I chose it as the main supports in our two-storey house and for all the joists in the roofs because it’s produced fairly close by (maybe two hours drive down to the coast). It’s very light weight and flexible, and is a good bit more economical than wood of the same diameter and quality.

Q: What should beginners be aware of?
 
A: The tricky parts come in the treatment and joinery. To make sure that bamboo doesn’t rot out quickly (it’s full of carbs and sugars that insects and fungi love) it is usually treated with a boracic acid solution. Over time this treatment can wear off and other chemical treatments are required to ensure that it doesn’t break down prematurely. The quality of the treatment here in Guatemala varies widely because bamboo construction is still quite new to this part of the world and the facilities for treatment and the industry around it is new too.
 
Bamboo joinery is a bit more technical than basic wood framing. It’s easy to screw and nail standardised 2 x 4s together, but since bamboo is round you have to cut “fish mouth” joints into the connecting ends with large diameter hole borers to ensure a good connection. This requires some practice and patience and honestly, I’ve still got a ton of room for improvement. Luckily there are some very talented and proficient “bambuseros” in our community who have taught me a ton and have been essential on our house build. 

Q: What are the advantages of constructing with bamboo?

A: To me the main benefits of bamboo for building is that a bamboo post will reach maturity in 3-5 years whereas a round wood beam might take 15-20 years to reach the same diameter. Bamboo also has incredible tensile strength, meaning it can span large distances without supports, making it ideal for roofs. It can also break without failing completely (unlike wood), so it’s a very forgiving material in that way too.
 
I would encourage anyone living in a region where construction grade bamboo grows to explore their options of using it in their buildings. It’s a ton of fun to work with and is a great alternative to industrial logging operations. 
​
Q: How did you attach your bamboo rafters to your support joists?
 
A: They're perforated with threaded steel rods. The top is then bent in half so the bamboo can't come up, and the bottom (under the support joist) washers and nuts are screwed on.
 
Q: I’m sure I’ve seen some people lash them together. Is that another way to do it?
 
A: You're absolutely right. Traditionally they were tied together with natural fibre rope (often coconut fibres in Asia, here in Central America they use the fibres of the maguey cactus). We use threaded steel rods and nuts to save time, but the tied joints are always stronger.

For more information on bamboo listen to Oliver’s podcast episode with Charlie Rendall of “Return to the Forest.” Charlie has specialised in bamboo construction for many years and he talks at length about the benefits and challenges of bamboo in the interview.
 
If you want to learn more about The Abundant Edge you can contact Oliver Goshey and the team directly through the contact page on their website Atitlan Organics.

http://www.atitlanorganics.com/

The team also have a host of courses starting in October 2018, including Introduction to Natural Building and Introduction to Permaculture,  Ecological Farming and Agroforestry Course, and our Intermediate Natural Building Course in March, all of which you can find under the "education" tab on the website.

If you find these posts inspiring, useful or both, consider chipping in to support The Mud Home on Patreon. It takes quite a while to compile quality posts, and costs a lot of money to run. For just $2 a month you get a behind the scenes look at how I’m building my own off-grid world in northern Spain. All patrons also enjoy email priority and now also have access to an exclusive monthly video from my land.
 
Those planning their own builds, wanting to ask in depth questions and get more support should seriously consider joining The Mud Home Facebook too. It’s the most inexpensive way to get professional advice.
 
Many thanks to the Mud Sustainers already supporting The Mud Home and making these articles possible. 

How Three People Came Together (and Stayed Together) to Make an Earthbag House in Costa Rica
 
It isn’t easy to build a house from scratch for the first time, and when you throw friends and lovers in the mix? Ooh...make or break, I reckon. So when a handsome couple from Costa Rica joined our Mud Home Facebook group in the winter, I did wonder how it would all turn out. There's a lot to learn from this project.

​The Love Story and the Dream
Our story begins with Sam and Leora from California. A couple often to be seen balancing on surfboards as the sun turns pink, looking enviably tanned and healthy. The pair met three years ago and have been globetrotting ever since. Then they stumbled into Costa Rica. Here the love begins, with the land (it always starts with the land), the surf, and each other.
 
“After about two years of balancing travel with ‘real life’, we decided it might be time for a big lifestyle change,” says Leora, who spearheaded the design of what was a very ambitious earthbag house for first-time builders.
 
 “One night Sam was cruising the internet and discovered this ‘out there’ natural building technique. We had briefly discussed, in fantasy form, our dream of leaving the U.S. to build a home and start a family. Sam and I spent the next few months daydreaming, scheming and researching Earthbag Building. We downloaded all of Owen Geigers PDFs and looked into The Cal Earth Institute that was just right down the street in Riverside, California. In many ways, we fell in love with it.”
 
From the outset, this project has been well-planned. Leora had studied interior architecture, so was in a good position to design her new home. “Sam and I spent the next few months concept designing every square inch of the project. We drew up site maps and floor plans and started to see our dream turn into a possible reality!” explains Leora, who is clearly not of the Atulya K Bingham seat-of-your-pants approach.
 
The dream took hold of them. But the only issue was, Sam and Leora didn’t own a place to realise it. No small holding. No land. So they returned to Costa Rica. After a long hunt, they finally found what they were looking for. “A raw piece of jungle, roughly three-quarters of an acre. It was perfect. We closed the land deal a month later, on my birthday,” Leora says.

​The Friend
Dreams are all well and good. But to haul them out of the swampy marshlands of fantasy and into reality, you need a game plan. In most cases of construction you also need help – the right help. As I said, this house was very ambitious for first-time builders. I blinked once or twice when I saw the size of it.
 
The project included two sizeable earthbag round houses joined by an earthbag corridor. There were circles and straight walls, cupolas, and massive arches. It was going to be naturally plastered, too. When I first laid eyes on it, I gulped, because I knew how much work it would be. But I didn’t realise that Sam and Leora had a secret weapon.
 
“I met Sam on a trip to Costa Rica almost five years ago,” says Murat Dirlik, an experienced alternative builder from North Carolina (think Frank Zappa on a surfboard meets Salvador Dali with a hammer, and you’ll be riding roughly the right mental wave).
 
“When Sam and Leora bought the lot here in Playa Peladas, they offered me the opportunity to come be their superintendent on the job. I was already burned out on hospitality management, so I jumped at the chance to do an earthbag project with my friends,” he says.

​The House Begins
The rest of us in the Facebook group have been watching this build go up since February, and from the word go it was hard not to be impressed. The design was appropriate – buttresses and adjoining walls were going in the right places, windows were well-placed, and the earthbags were looking tidier than a neurotic’s bookshelf. But most of all it was the team work that impressed me, because this project could have so easily have gone pear-shaped.
 
It’s really hard to maintain good communication when you are tired and stressed, with any number of limitations (time/weather/money) hanging over you. What I loved about this build is how everyone was valued and had a role. I’m oversimplifying, because in truth there are many overlaps in duties, but Leora is chief designer and on site each day to iron out design issues, Sam usually deals with logistics, planning, supplies and workers, and Murat is head of construction, foreman of the crew, and brings the design into reality. Everyone has a say, and the team meets regularly to discuss.

​The Problems
From the outside this project seemed to be running so smoothly I could hardly believe there were any difficulties, but of course there’s always trouble somewhere.
 
“All told, I think the thing that repeatedly wore me down was negotiating the crew,” says Murat. Perhaps it is largely my own problem, because I have spent ten years running a very well-oiled crew made up of some of my best friends, so coming here for this project I had to abandon such expectations. Simply put, between the language difficulties (I speak pretty much fluent Spanish but not Guanacaste worker slang) and the cultural aspects of it all, as well as the individual personalities of the workers and their general lack of building experience, things could become pretty overwhelming.”
 
Yes, I hear you Murat. People are hard to manage. And the more people there are, the more trouble there is to negotiate. I’m often asked why I do so much alone. Honestly? Because half the time, even with the best intentions, ‘help’ just isn’t very helpful. People usually aren’t trained, and come with a barrel load of needs that you have to attend to.
 
“There was a palpable change in the stress level once we reduced our number of employees to about three people...so much easier to manage.” Wise words from Murat here. Keep your team a manageable size.
 
Sam and Leora had other issues, and I sympathise here too, because it is stressful when it’s your property and you are shelling out a lot of money for a build. “This has not been an easy project for us. I would say the most difficult part has been time, money and design management. This is our first project ever. We have learned a lot about stress control, remaining calm and collected during times of chaos and most importantly, how to remain a team and work together,” says Leora, very gracefully if I may say so.

How to do it right
As far as I’m concerned, this was one of the most successful first projects I’ve ever seen. I know it wasn't easy, but it never is. Watching from the outside, I have my own take on why it succeeded. Here’s a list of things this team did right:
 
1. Research
Now, I might be a bit of a pantser, but even with my Mud Home in Turkey, even when I was in a tent without power, I still did my research. I bought the books, went to trusted sources, and wrote down information. You need to do your homework.
 
2. Communication and kindness
This team are excellent communicators. All three of them understand the importance of praise, and of valuing everyone’s efforts. All three met weekly to discuss the plan, and all three spent time off site having fun, too. There’s a lot of good feeling between them.

3. Experience
I would never normally recommend anyone who is building for the first time to try a project this big. If Murat hadn't had a decent amount of experience...
 
4. Asking for advice, and mitigating the ego
I tell you, when it comes to construction people are far too slow to ask for advice from an expert.  And I get it. There is a continual barrage of opinions (many pretty misinformed) coming at you when you build something, so you get sick of hearing ‘advice’. But the truth is, heck, you’re building a house! Mistakes cost a lot of money. They might even bankrupt you. So just find an expert you trust and ask!
 
Who do I consider an expert? Experts are not people who spend all day blabbering. They are not your uncle Bob, or that guy up the road who keeps stopping by and adding his two-penneth worth. Indeed, in my experience real experts rarely give advice unless they are asked. The right person to take advice from is someone who has already done what you are doing. That’s it.
 
With my Mud Home in Turkey back in the day, I went to Owen Geiger for advice about foundations, and I had a friend at the end of the phone who’d already built a string of earthbag bungalows.
 
With the Costa Rican team, Murat was already extremely well-versed in many kinds of alternative construction, which is why it was running smoothly. But even so, when they weren’t sure, Sam, Leora, and Murat never hesitated to ask me questions.

​That’s my take. But what do Team Costa Rica think?
 
Here’s what Murat has to say:
 
“I think that through a combination of my experience and familiarity with the building process (geometric concepts, design, engineering for strength, anticipating and planning ahead, setting up a workspace, and innovating like crazy in a place with little access to certain things we often take for granted) and Leora and Sam's understanding of how they wanted the project to turn out, we had a winner from the start. They knew that they wanted something nice and elegant, and unlike a lot of clients I have worked with, they had a proper vision from the beginning. After some growing pains we have come to trust each other and not hold onto any ideas too rigidly, so the project has been able to grow on its own in a really nice way...It's natural to get frustrated with one another and butt heads on a project as big as this one, so keeping that in mind and making sure to just have fun together is a crucial aspect of it. I would be hard pressed to think of doing this project with/for people whom I did not love, so maybe at the root of it all, that is how we have managed to overcome all of the difficulties and get to where we are now.”
 
Here’s Sam and Leora’s perspective:
 
“The most important factor in our success has been our unwavering determination to finish. There has never been a moment where we’ve even considered throwing our hands up and saying ‘we quit’...Through times of great stress and all-time lows, Sam and I manage to love our way through it, sometimes kicking and screaming, but at the end of the day there is always a hug and a ‘we’re gonna fucking do this!’ ”
 
A round of applause for Team Costa Rica. You did well. Very well.

​Murat also put together this pretty damn amazing roof for the earthbag house. I’ll be outlining exactly how he did it in another article. So if you’re in the area looking for a man who can make gorgeous and inventive things with his hands, contact Murat.
 
And if you’d like to follow Sam and Leora’s story and see how this project ends, have a look at their blog: https://www.lovestrucktravelers.com/
 
If you’d like to be a part of our closed Mud Home Facebook group, where all sorts of builds are happening, and where I share what I’m building too, you can learn how to join here. When you join the group you will also get a free copy of The Mud Home Building PDF at the beginning of the month.

If you find these posts inspiring, useful or both, consider chipping in to support The Mud Home on Patreon. It takes quite a while to compile quality posts, and costs a lot of money to run. When you pledge you get to join my private news feed and enjoy email priority.

​It was 2012 when someone sent me a photo of this little cottage. And my heart nearly stopped when I saw it, because it felt like the twin sister of my mud home in Turkey. The living roof. The curling tree on the side wall. The funky, one-woman beauty of it. Over the next few years, the two mud homes went their own ways and evolved into different entities. But I always felt a connection to this house and to the artist who made it.

​Heidi Vilkman lives mostly in the UK now, but she began this project in Finland. It was for the most part continued in summer holidays. The entire structure is a mud world of myth and fae. It brings a feminine creative magic into construction, and just to look at it reawakens something from our childhoods. Something incredibly precious that we have mostly lost. The right to imagine, and to believe.

How was it made?
But before I completely sink into rhapsody, here are the nuts and bolts of the construction: Heidi’s cottage is a masterpiece of natural building. Each wall uses a different technique: Cob, straw bale and cordwood. Sensibly the straw bale is on the north side for insulation. The living roof structure was made by Heidi and her dad. Her dad built the timber frame of the house too, and mum got her hands dirty with cobbing. A neighbour helped with a skylight and the front door. But most of the donkey work was completed by Heidi herself.

​The Interior
The plaster work (which is all natural clay plaster), beautiful pargeting, and original details such as the mezzanine for the bed, are what give this house its unique personality. Heidi also made her own clay paint and added natural pigments for colour. As you can see, the result is exquisite. 

​“My inspiration came from art and nature.” Heidi says. “The forest which the cottage stands next to is my childhood playground, and I spent a lot of time in it as a young child (and older one). When I stumbled on photos of cob cottages in 2011, I was ‘cobsmacked’ that one could build an actual building with clay, basically. And they were so beautiful too! Nothing like your 'usual houses'. Just full of organic, beautiful forms and textures. As I worked with ceramics, I instantly fell in love with that concept and had to do something about it.”

One of the beauties of this little cottage is the slowness of the build, and the way it draws on its surroundings for materials and form. When a structure takes time, it becomes an organic movement, rather than a lump of construction imposed abruptly upon a landscape. It morphs and evolves, balancing the needs of the humans it houses and the environment in which it stands. Truly one of my favourite mud homes.
 
Heidi Vilkman is a talented artist. You can learn more about her at www.heidivilkman.com. To browse her lovely creations, see her e-store www.heidivilkman.etsy.com.

​The Mud Home remains free (and ad-free) and takes me many hours a month to research and write, and goes into the hundreds to run. If you find any joy, inspiration, and value in what I do, please consider becoming a Mud Patron. For less than the price of a coffee you can join my private news feed, ask me questions, and become part of our thriving mud club.

Many thanks to our Mud Sustainers and all those already supporting The Mud Home on Patreon. It is thanks to you the site is still running.

Do you know your cob from your adobe? And what about superadobe? Are you daubing instead of wattling? Or could you even be ramming? Hmm.
 
Mud building has developed over thousands of years, and there are a variety of wonderful techniques. Because most mud building uses the same essential materials (a mixture of clay, straw and sand) the names are sometimes used a little loosely, which can lead to right muddy mess of how-to: cob, adobe, superadobe, wattle and daub, and rammed earth. What's the difference? Quite a lot.
 
Each mud building technique has evolved in specific regions of the planet, and each has its pros and cons. Before you start a mud build, it pays to know them so that you can choose the mud house that best suits your needs and wants.

Cob
 
Cob is probably the most misused word in natural building. People throw it around pretty much any time they chuck a bit of mud. I’m not a massive jargon junkie, nor particularly nit-picking, and quite honestly, who cares which word you use if you’re just lobbing mud with a group of pals. But if you’re teaching technique, cob is a very specific mud building method which works for some climates and temperaments, and not for others.

Cob is an Old English word, and today refers to a technique particularly prevalent in the south west of England, East Anglia, parts of Ireland and Wales, Brittany, and a lot of rural Africa. Because there is no post-and-beam structure, in a fair few regions in the world it can slip through the grey areas in building regulations (in many areas, a structure isn’t recognised as a proper building unless there is concrete involved).
 
How is it done?
Cob houses are constructed layer by layer. Basically you are mixing up clay, straw and sand, and throwing large patties of it to create a wall. One layer has to dry before the next is laid, so cob building takes time. There is no frame, and no other structural material used. Because of this you really can sculpt the house in the shape you want.
 
Things to note:
Cob is not the best technique for a flood plain (as even Ivanto Evans states in his marvellous book, The Hand Sculpted House, a recommended read for anyone considering cob), because a cob wall can disintegrate suddenly when sitting in water. This is why, as with all mud builds, you need a decent rubble trench foundation (not concrete, definitely not concrete), and a nice high stem wall made of stone.

​Adobe
 
Adobe is probably the most widespread traditional building technique in the world, and can be found in abundance in Africa, the Middle East, South and Central America, and Asia. 
 
How is it done?
Adobe utilises the same clay, straw and sand mixture as cob, only this time the ‘mud mix’ is poured into molds and left to dry in the sun. Thus bricks are formed. These are then stacked to build the adobe home, with an earth plaster used as mortar. For a great and detailed info-article on adobe building and how to make adobe bricks, see this post in The Abundant Edge.
 
Things to note:
This technique works especially well in hot, dry climates. Again, such houses are somewhat more prone to flooding issues and need decent rubble trench foundations and good stem walls in wetter climates.

Superadobe
 
Another confusing name. Superadobe is actually earthbag building. The reason it’s also called superadobe is because rather than having to preform and dry adobe bricks in the sun before you start building, you stick damp clayey earth into sacks, and then let it cure on the wall. Superadobe also doesn’t use the traditional clay, straw and sand mixture. It’s simply clay and earth for the main structure. This potentially makes it faster because you don’t have to stomp all that mixture together before you build.
 
How is it done?
Wet bags of earth are filled and laid head to toe, then tamped to squash the earth into solid bricks. Each layer is held together by rows of barbed wire. See the whole story here.
 
Things to note:
While earthbag doesn’t boast the romantic elegance of a traditional technique, Earthbag does perform amazingly well in extreme conditions. It is almost invincible in terms of strength, and has proved nearly impossible to fell on the shake table. It’s also the most secure mud building technique if you live in a flood zone, because the bags keep the dirt in place even if the wall gets wet. The bad news regarding earthbag is however, that it’s fairly labour-intensive, so you want a bit of muscle on your team if you choose this method.

Wattle and Daub
 
Another very ancient technique found in many corners of the world; wattle and daub doesn’t just use the mud mix. The wattle is a lath frame, and the daub is some variation on earth plaster.
 
How is it done?
Usually wattle and daub uses a post-and-beam structure. A lath is made from willow or similar strong, bendable wood, and then it’s plastered over using that same mud mixture again. The mixture is layered to create very thick walls (though you have to let each layer dry thoroughly before adding the next).
 
Things to note: Because you use a post and beam structure it may be easier to get a permit for wattle and daub in the right area, than say earthbag. The frame means you can create very straight walls (if you want that), and it gives the mud a little more structure in the event of a flood or such like.

​Rammed Earth
 
Another golden oldie of mud building. A similar mud mixture: Usually just clayey soil and sand, though I have seen other things such as straw and sawdust added too. You see a lot of rammed earth in the Middle East and North Africa, and modern rammers create some amazing results with it. The Eden project in the UK, Stanford University meditation centre, and the gorgeous Senegalese Cultural Centre are just a few examples.
 
How is it done?
Instead of a lath, or bricks, or just throwing mud, this time the clay mixture is stuffed into moulds and squashed down. Again you wait until each layer dries before adding the next, hence why it’s been so utilised over the centuries in the Middle East where the climate is dry for months at a time. See this GreenSpec article for more information.
 
Things to note: Rammed earth is extremely long lasting. It can also be used to create very sleek, modern finishes with an interesting marbled effect created by the layers of compressed earth.

​The Mud Home remains free (and ad-free) and takes me many hours a month to research and write, and goes into the hundreds to run. If you find any joy, inspiration, and value in what I do, please consider becoming a Mud Patron. For less than the price of a coffee you can join my private news feed, and ask me questions.

Many thanks to our Mud Sustainers and all those already supporting The Mud Home on Patreon. It is thanks to you these posts are still coming.

As time goes by and earthbag building becomes more practised, more and more earthbag filling techniques appear. Probably every team winds up creating their own earthbag filling system, though it will differ depending on whether you are using tubes or bags. For the record, here are a few tested ways to stuff dirt into your sacks.

BAGS
 
1. The Classic Single-Sack-With-Bag-Stand Routine
 
The tried and true technique for filling earthbags, is to gusset the bottom of the bag by hand so that the corners are turned in. Then you fill the first 10-15 cm with damp earth, tamp it so that the bottom of the bag is nice and square, before filling the rest of the bag. 

​You would normally measure the amount of earth that goes in the bag (using pots of some description or shovel-loads), this way you can adjust the bag size, so that your earthbags sit staggered in the wall like bricks.
 
In truth, you don’t have to too neurotic about the exact amount of earth in the bag. But the amount does need to be fairly consistent, so that when you tamp the bags flat, they are squashed to roughly the same level. 

​Why gusset the sacks? Because if you don’t, the corners stick out in the wall creating a very bumpy finish. This isn’t the end of the world and certainly not a structural issue, but it’s a devil to plaster over. So you’ll save yourself a lot of effort in the long run by making sure your sack-ends sit nice and flush.

2. The Alternative Sack Fill
In our last workshop in Turkey, we invented another bag-laying technique which allowed us to pre-fill a lot of sacks with dry earth, and then wet them on the wall. Details of that method are outlined here.
 
3. The Six-at-a-Time Multi-Fill
 
Naturally, people get impatient with the one-at-a-time bag stand routine. So they invent other, faster ways of filling multiple bags at once. Sometimes they’ll even resort to child labour. :)

​4. Industrial Speed Filling
 
For those who love machines, this tractor earthbag-filling system is going to be the clear winner. The sack tie-up at the end is the icing on the cake. Personally, I would hate the fumes and noise. For me, the whole point of building your own home is to enjoy the teamwork process. But I accept I’m in the minority there.

​TUBES
Filling tubes is a little different from individual sacks, as you inevitably have to fill on the wall. Here are a couple of options:
 
1. Nice and Leisurely
Jehane Rucquoi and friends take things in their stride with this relaxed technique.

​2. The Earthbag Boa-Contraption
Here is another system using a nifty wooden frame that squashes the earthbag flat as it goes. It bears a passing resemblance to a massive earthbag snake, which is totally besides the point, but anyway.

THERE’S NO SINGLE RIGHT ANSWER

It really is pretty much down to you and your team as to which technique you prefer, and no doubt there are many others out there that I haven’t yet heard of. Feel free to tell us about, or add a link to, your own method in the comments. I always like to learn a new way.

The Mud Home remains free (and ad-free) and takes me many hours a month to research and write, and goes into the hundreds to run. If you find any joy, inspiration, and value in what I do, please consider becoming a Mud Patron. For less than the price of a coffee you can join my private news feed, and ask me questions.
​
Many thanks to our Mud Sustainers and all those already supporting The Mud Home on Patreon. It is thanks to you these posts are still coming. 

​Starting a tiny off-grid world for the second time is a lot easier. You know what you need, and in which order. First time off-gridders, or off-grid planners, often don't know where to start. And your conventional home won’t be a decent guide for the very different world of off-grid living.
 
So here’s my list of the first ten things you need to organise when you go off-grid. I’ve broken it up into two sections: The Short Term focuses on your immediate survival needs. These will get you through a season, but they won’t be enough to keep you going indefinitely. The Long Term addresses how you will sustain yourself. While there may be some variation to the order I’ve put things in, trying to solve long term problems before you’ve got the short term covered is going to be stressful and energy devouring. You have limited muscle power and patience. You want to use it well.

The Short Term (Survival)
 
1. Temporary shelter. You can survive weeks without food, three days without water, but in the wrong climate even a night without decent shelter can kill you. So you need somewhere to sleep while you set up your off-grid world. It will depend on your weather, but I’ve seen tents, campervans/trailers, mobile homes/prefabs, containers, and wooden huts all used as possible shelters.
 
2. Water. If you haven't bought land yet, don't get a bit without water on. I did survive on Mud Mountain without running water for 2 years, but it was pretty exhausting. In a perfect world you want to have your water sorted out before you even move on. But this isn’t a perfect world, and that often doesn’t happen for any number of reasons. It really should be one of your first priorities though. Having a decent supply will save so much work.
 
3. Tools. Which tools you buy first will depend on your terrain. But some mixture of the following tools are your basics: Pick, rake, spade, scythe/sickle, machete, hammer, nails, saw, wheelbarrow, secateurs. Your wonderful Black and Decker jigsaw will come in very handy one day, but not on the first. Nor the second. At the outset, you will doubtless be clearing terrain and shifting rocks, building fences and basic structures (see four).

4. Kitchen/Toilet. So, you have a dry, warm bed, you have water, and you have tools. Now you need a space to make food, and another space to crap. Which of those you deem most urgent will depend on when you last ate. The most basic cooking area requires a small hob or fire, a sink of some description, and a place to store food that won’t be ravaged by animals. The simplest and most environmentally friendly toilet option is to build a composting loo like this. Or this.
 
5. Access for a vehicle. This is arguably a higher priority, but you won't die without a road. It’s just a major inconvenience. A must say, I’m a bit ambivalent about access because the great thing about a lack of road is that it keeps nosy parkers out. But the truth is, unless you're walking and never want to bring anything in, life is very difficult without some sort of track into your land.
​
6. Somewhere to wash yourself, and wash clothes. You’ll want a basic shower area. It will depend on your climate how you go about that, but anything from a space in the forest, to a bit of bamboo matting hoisted up will provide some cover (if you need it). You’ll also want a floor that drains fast and doesn’t become muddy. If you don’t use polluting detergents, rocks and gravel do the job simply and cheaply. Wooden slats are another shower floor option.

​The Long Term (Sustain yourself)
 
7. Friends and neighbours. Your network is crucial (and bear in mind I'm a hermit). Start getting to know folk asap, because something will go wrong at some point. The easiest and fastest way to build a community is to be helpful and generous with your time and knowledge. And not to start asking for things before you’ve deposited a little into the favour bank. None of us is entitled to friends. They are earned over time. If you are in a country with another language, then you need to learn it, like, yesterday. It changes everything.

8. Veggie patch and homesteading; chickens/goats etc. Trying to start a smallholding before you’ve got your basic needs covered is a bad idea. Animals and plants need care, food, and plenty else. They give back in abundance. But often only after time. So I recommend going a little slow with your homesteading mission. It’s a step by step, long term project. Certainly, it’s one of the most rewarding aspects of the tiny, off-grid lifestyle. But it requires consistent dedication and in the first six-to-twelve months you will be busy enough getting your infrastructure up.
 
9. Power (solar panels/wind power etc). Notice how far down the list this is. Power is nowhere near as crucial as modern Westerners believe. And I actually recommend a while without it. It's beautiful. Solar power is now so cheap and widespread. If you are strapped for cash, you can begin with a small system to meet your basic lighting and laptop needs. I always recommend investing in rechargeable hand tools too, because you can charge their batteries even from a tiny solar system. Normal power tools with cables need a lot of juice in one go, so unless you have a generator, or a substantial solar/wind system, you’ll have trouble.
 
10. Income. Yeees, this is perhaps the trickiest of your off-grid requirements to realise. You don't need much income, but as I have learned over the past eight years, you do need something coming in. It deserves a post in its own right, so I’ll save that one for later.

So that’s my list. I also put the question to The Mud Home Members Group, many of whom are building off-grid worlds. Here are other things folk added. I think they are all excellent pieces of advice.
 
“The only thing I would add is, A PLAN! I cant tell you how many clients I’ve worked with who got started without one and how many simple mistakes can be avoided by simply taking a bit of time to plan and prepare. If nothing else it will save you a ton of time going to the store to get things you forgot.” Oliver Goshey, consultant and natural building expert.
 
“Be realistic about what you can accomplish.” Nicodemus Ford, earthbagging in California.
 
“I recommend a like-minded mate to share the journey with. They'll get on your last nerve, but you'll come out of it laughing at mysterious things that no one else can really understand. I would add, take a break from time to time. Go and look at something beautiful, or just stay in bed for a day and recharge.” Cath Coffee, earthbag pioneer in the UK and tiny-off-grid-world-builder in Portugal.
 
“Water! Washing machine! Another decent pair of hands, and plain good energy to share in the awesomeness.” Jehane Rucquoi, earthbag pioneer in Nevada

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