​Far up north, there’s a bard in the woods creating dream worlds for himself out of timber and earthbags. He’s built a cabin, a yurt and a hobbit house in his quest to escape the drudge of the wage economy. Let me introduce the free spirit that is Hugh Morshead.

“Ten years ago, I moved into a one-room cabin in the woods. I thought that I would be living a life of voluntary simplicity with one boot in the 19th century and the other in the  21st,” Hugh explained to me. “After my first summer the bank called. The manager met me at the door and asked if she could sit in on the meeting. Across the desk I faced two sets of arched eyebrows. Their concern was my sudden wealth...I paraphrased the money lender in David Copperfield – disposable income equals income minus expenses.”
 
Disposable income equals income minus expenses. Stick that on a billboard, someone! Whenever I read all these ludicrous “How to earn a million bucks” stories, I’m prone to chuckle or sigh depending on my mood. Yeah, earn a million and spend 900,000 in the process, not to mention selling your soul, your health and your peace of mind. Hugh’s philosophy is mine. Reduce your expenses, love the Earth and her creatures, tell stories and create beauty.
 
Now, I’m not going to recount Hugh’s tale, because he’s written that himself and will do a far better job than I. But I’ll whet your appetites with a summary.

Born in Ireland in 1953, and having spent most of his twenties backpacking, I think we can safely say Hugh has always possessed a touch of wanderlust. He emigrated to Canada in 1980 to build equestrian cross-country courses, and for 30 years ran a horse farm with his wife.
 
Then ten years ago they divorced.
 
I always think wherever you are in the world, divorce is poorly treated. There are no proper ceremonies or celebrations, because the staid judgement of society is that a divorce is some kind of failure. I would very much question that idea. Divorces are major successes, they are the victory of the individual soul over the expectations of the herd and the temptations of the comfort zone. They are beginnings, the time to dust off old dreams and live them to the full.
 
Thoreau
So, in true Thoreau style, Hugh left his old world and moved into a 150 year old log cabin on a spacious property in the woods in Ontario. “I went on a crazy building spree – sauna, earthbag hobbit house, yurt, greenhouses, gardens, root cellar, sheds, ponds,” he says. Thus began his new life. “I divided the year into three: reading and writing in winter, working and building during the summer and travel by bicycle or on foot in the autumn.” Now if that doesn’t make you consider going it alone, I don’t know what will. :)

 One earthbag house after another
Then somewhat later, ‘on a whim’ as he describes it, Hugh built an earthbag house for himself. It cost him just $500 to construct, and was semi-submerged beneath the ground. He lived in it for a year, and described the experience as much of a spiritual journey as a physical one.
 
The thing with mud homes is they are as infectious as smallpox, so naturally earthbag building didn’t end buried in the woods for Hugh. “My neighbour had a similar whim,” he says, “so I built one for her. Then I got a call to go to Australia for a month and build one for indigenous women elders.”
 
I always think building with mud takes you places you never thought you’d go. The dirt opens doors and paves new ways. So off Hugh trotted halfway round the world, from the northern cool of Canada to the Pacific heat of Australia, to build yet another earthbag dwelling for The Sacred Womyn’s Camp near Byron Bay. “It is a collection of tents in the bush...home to Lois Cook, the eldest surviving member of the local aboriginal tribe and designated as Custodian of Country.”
 
That story of Hugh’s experience with the Sacred Womyn’s Camp is a beautiful one that he recounts in his book, which will be available soon.

Which shelter is best?
Having built a variety of sustainable shelters, I asked Hugh which kind of structure he preferred and why. “I believe earthbag building is simply the best form of owner-build home for any environment,” he says. “Yurts are a perfect starter home or guest house, and combined with an earth plaster wall they have great potential – less work, less materials and easily built by one person.”
 
Why do we love earthbag?
I’ve often noticed that people are smitten by earthbag. I am too, still. It’s so simple and solid a technique, and so so sustainable, because in the right climate you can actually get away with zero timber. It’s solid, earthquake and hurricane proof, fireproof, bulletproof and soundproof. You can create gorgeous organic shapes with earthbag, too.

Community Spirit
 As you may have already gleaned, despite his appetite from freedom, Hugh is incredibly socially-minded. He is involved in his community through public speaking, a farmer’s market, and workshops. While the workshops are open to all, the emphasis is to empower women and indigenous people to build their own ultra-low-cost homes.
 
This summer he’s at it again. He will be up to his knees in dirt in a workshop in Canada organized by an indigenous Elder, Becky BigCanoe who lives on Georgia Island on Lake Simcoe in Ontario, Canada. The course will take place on indigenous land and the plan is to build a hobbit house and a yurt over a few weekends in July and August. I’ll be posting details of it in the newsletter when it’s finalised, but heck if I were in Canada, I’d go!

Hugh is very helpful and sociable. "I'm always available to answer questions," he says. You can read more about his lifestyle and building projects, or contact him from his blog: http://hughmorshead.blogspot.com/

​The Mud Home remains free (and ad-free) and takes me many hours a month to research and write, and is expensive to run. If you find inspiration, useful information, or value in it, please consider becoming a patron to ensure its existence. For less than the price of a coffee you can join my private news feed where I post photos and updates of my new off-grid project I don’t want to share with the rest of the world, 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 articles are still coming.

If you are embarking on a project and want some personal assistance at very low cost, I recommend joining our private Facebook group. The numbers will be capped at 100 to ensure I can give everyone the attention they need. 

Having battled out in the sticks in Turkey, I would often roll my eyes skywards when someone would comment on a post “Why don’t you just go to _____ and buy _____?” I had no car, and the nearest large scale home store was probably about 1000 kilometres away. Amazon didn’t deliver to Turkey at the time either. 

Dirt grafter Kristen Krash from the very inspiring Sueño de Vida project in Ecuador is apparently in the same boat. Here she offers up more gems from the real world of low-impact, off-grid living somewhere rather remote without a megastore. Yes. The gulf between ideology and reality is never easy to bridge...

Kristen Krash
Back in another life, when I had a TV, I watched an episode of some reality show about mega-wealthy people building their fantastic dream houses in remote locations. The episode I saw followed this super-rich guy to a mountaintop in Montana, where he had contracted the construction of a “log mansion”—a way over-the-top take on a log cabin, built almost entirely of huge redwood tree trunks, enormous wood beams, and various types of rock and stone, from gigantic boulders for the foundation to rare onyx and blue marble for the bathtubs. Everything had to be flown in by helicopter. And yet, despite the total ludicrousness of it all, this wood and stone behemoth is a “natural building.”
 
Ok, this is a pretty extreme example, but it makes my point: It is entirely possible to build a house from mostly natural materials that has absolutely nothing to do with sustainability or giving a crispy fish-stick about Nature herself. It is also equally possible to build a structure that is very sustainable and environmentally adaptive, but not very natural. Earthships, for example. One would hope that a “natural” builder is motivated as much by a respect for the Earth as a need for shelter. And yet, I see it all the time: the most well-intentioned natural builders trucking in way too many inputs and getting so technical with their materials that the end result might be “natural”, but not low-impact environmentally.
 
If you want to make the leap from reading this blog to building your own natural and truly eco-friendly home, here are some common traps to avoid falling into along the way:

1. A room with a view
Chances are, you’re accustomed to living in a house where clean water, power, heat, and air conditioning are piped in and trash, sewage, and water used for washing are taken neatly away to “somewhere.” Now, say you’ve gotten a parcel of land somehow and are sighting the “best” spot to build your dream natural house. It’s perfectly normal that the first spots that leap out at you will be higher, with a “view.” But if you want your home to be more sustainable, both financially and ecologically, and especially if you’re building off-grid, there are much more important things to consider.
 
Water: How will you bring water into your house if it’s at the highest point? You can pump it from a source below to a tower, but that requires a pump, and a tower. You’re better off building down from a slope (but not at the bottom where rain settles) so you can collect water in a pool or tank above the level of your house and let gravity bring it down. If you do it right, you can even generate water pressure!
 
Power: Sight your house to use less power. If you’re in a cold northern clime, south-facing windows are great for exposure to winter sun. If you’re in a hot climate, find some shade.
 
Ultimately, your view is what you see when you look outside. If you want a beautiful view, make one. Plant a flower and herb garden to attract butterflies and hummingbirds. Build a little fountain or birdbath with stones. Hollow out tree trunks and fill them with natural fibres to grow orchids. Your view will change daily and you can feel more in touch with your surroundings. And if you want to see it all from the top, walking uphill is great exercise.

​2. Truckloads of imports
It seems so obvious. You want to build a mud house and there’s dirt under your feet. So you use it, right? But oh no, somehow in our bizarre culture hell-bent on perfection, we’ve got folks trucking in bags of “pure” clay because they are afraid of what “organic matter” might do to their cob or plaster mix. Not to mention stripping river beds of sand for that “just right” sharpness. Ok, yes, a sticky-enough clay is important, a sharp enough sand is important. But guess what? There are a lot of sound natural buildings out there that pre-date dump trucks by a few hundred years because the people who built them found a way to work with what they had. If your clay isn’t sticky enough but there are cows around, add some manure. Or cook up some wheat paste. If you don’t have sand, look for reject construction sand before dredging a riverbed.
 
The key to being natural and low-impact is to stay local with where you get your basic materials. In our project here in the cloud forest, we use a lot of giant bamboo, which grows in abundance here. What’s eco-friendly here wouldn’t be in, say, Wisconsin, where straw bales are readily available. The more stuff you have to bring to your site and the farther it comes from means a bigger impact your little house is making on the precious skin of the Earth. So keep it local, as much as you can.
 
3. Special stuff
Once I was showing a visitor to our project the beautiful colours of clay I had collected from our land to make naturally tinted paints for earth plastered walls. I proudly held out my harvest of hues, shades of russet, ochre, salmon, eggshell. “Hmm,” the visitor glanced at them, “but can’t you get blue? I guess you could just order it from...somewhere.” Sigh. When meditators can’t concentrate, they call it “monkey mind.” When people can’t appreciate what is right there in front of them, I call it “Amazon Prime mind.” No, I can’t “just” order it from somewhere, because that blue pigment has to be mined, processed, packaged, and shipped. And I have a whole palette right here.
 
From foundations to finishes, there’s a whole bunch of exotic, but perfectly natural, things out there to bedazzle the builder: volcanic ashes to make cement that isn’t cement, silicates from speciality pottery suppliers to keep clays in suspension, powdered mica from craft stores to make your lime paint extra sparkly…it’s so easy to whip out the credit card and mail order away. “I want that!” Amazon Prime mind clamours. But before you hit confirm on that order for Apricot Blush or Aztec Indigo mineral pigment, ask yourself, “do I really need this?” If the answer is no, smile and hit cancel. You just made your natural build a bit more sustainable.

4. The internet
Well, this is ironic. Here I am, writing for an online building blog and I’m about to warn against online building blogs. I’m all for small, interactive, genuinely helpful groups like The Mud Home here. I stopped posting on the higher traffic blogs when I realized they were prowled by “experts.” I would post a straightforward question about, say, earth plaster in a humid rainforest climate. I’d peruse a few comments and go make plaster. The next day, Facebook would inform me that there were 124 comments on my post, most of them a highly technical debate between two people only a trained geologist would understand, or care about. And did nothing to answer my question.
 
If you want to build, build. You will make mistakes. You will learn from them and be better for the experience. If you want some advice, find a more intimate setting. If you find yourself getting sucked into some marathon thread on pozzolans, snap out of it and get back to your own test batches of plaster. There’s work to do.

5. Snobbery and in-fighting
Another problem with information on the internet is that it often comes laden with opinion. And some of it is mean, ill-founded, and counter-productive. There’s quite a bit of dissent over what constitutes a “natural” building; some folks don’t include earthbags as a natural technique because of the barbed wire and poly bags. If you get right down to it, there’s no such thing as a 100% natural building, except in very rare cases, and kudos to them. Straw bales don’t bale themselves folks, that takes a big industrial farm machine. Cob is about as natural as it gets, but most folks will eventually use a mixer of some sort to help them out. Post and beam structures, window and door frames, windows and doors, roofs...all these things require tools, nails, screws, and other things found at the hardware store, not on trees.
 
And don’t even get a natural building snob started on alternatives like using repurposed tires packed with dirt for foundations or plastic bottles for walls. “Toxic,” they sniff. Well, I suppose they are, if you eat them. Meanwhile in poor countries they burn old tires, and isn’t that just too bad for the people who live on top of those landfills? No, using tires and other trash to build with isn’t natural at all, but unless you’ve got a better idea what to do with all of it (and never use plastic or ride in a car, truck, or bus), I suggest leaving the garbage warriors alone to build their incredibly temperature-stable, solar-powered, grey-water recycling houses. Just sayin’.
 
While these petty “in-crowd” debates rage on the internet, the real world is paving itself over with concrete and erecting yet more power, water, and air-conditioning hungry towers on what’s left of our burning planet. Everything we humans do has an impact on the environment. Don’t get stuck because you’re afraid you can’t build the “perfect” natural home. It’s better to do an imperfect something than a perfect nothing. Get as much information as you need (there are such things as books, too), and get started. Stay local with your inputs, be real about your needs, and most of all, lead by example.

​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, see their website at http://www.suenodevida.org/our-dream/
 
Atulya’s Two-Penneth Worth
"It’s better to do an imperfect something than a perfect nothing." This resonated with me in so many ways. Because a perfect nothing isn't actually a neutral choice, it's a vote for the status quo.  I've changed my views on many things, but one remains absolutely intact: After two years in exile, I can say without any doubt at all, living off-grid close to nature in a small homestead is still one of the most powerful things you can do both for yourself and the planet. Whether you used a plastic washing up bowl or not is completely besides the point.

Here’s my summary of Kristen’s great tips:
1.When setting up a susty world for yourself, consider the essentials first (water, weather and power).
2. Avoid importing stuff as much as you can. Spend time in your land and get to know what’s there and use the gifts she gives you. This is so rewarding, economical and environmentally healthy.
3. Quit perfectionism. Grand Designs for the most part isn’t sustainable. It’s a middle class ego trip.
4. When asking for advice, find trusted sources and/or people who have already done what you want to do. Don’t ask too many people though, or you will get horribly confused.
5. Move from your heart and do an imperfect something, not a perfect nothing.

The Mud Home remains free (and ad-free) and takes me many hours a month to research and write, and is expensive to run. If you find any inspiration, useful information, or value in it, please consider becoming a patron to ensure its existence. For less than the price of a coffee you can join my private news feed where I post photos and updates of my new off-grid project I don’t want to share with the rest of the world, 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 articles are still coming.

If you are embarking on a project and want some personal assistance at very low cost, I recommend joining our private Facebook group. The numbers will be capped at 100 to ensure I can give everyone the attention they need.

​Many people are planning and researching at the moment. January does that to people. If it’s natural homes you’re thinking of then here’s a comparison of a few building techniques you might be considering: earthbag, cob, straw bale, wood, stone, and wattle and daub. I've compared the cost, difficulty of technique, how the buildings fare in extreme weather, heating, and other advantages and disadvantages. This list was written with beginners in mind, so I hope it’s helpful.

Earthbag

Difficulty of Technique
Earthbag is labour-intensive compared to straw bale or wood, but the good news is the technique is fairly idiot-proof. Earthbag homes can be built fast, depending on the energy and organisation of the team. Finishing the interior may take longer though.

Cost
If you’re building a round house, the materials are very inexpensive. Mud is free. The sacks are inexpensive. Labour is the key factor for cost with earthbag, so if you have volunteers it’s going to reduce the price tag significantly. If you’re making a straight-walled post and beam structure, then it’s going to be more expensive.

Insulation
Poor. R 0.2 per inch (still better than concrete though).

Thermal Mass*
Excellent.

Shape
One of the attractions of earthbag is the freedom of design. Domes, circles, and wavy lines are all possible.

Earthquakes and Extreme Weather
Earthbag is without a doubt the strongest sustainable building technique out there. It has exceeded earthquake test limits with no visible damage. This is why it has become popular in seismic areas like Nepal. I can personally attest earthbag also performs amazingly in hurricanes.

In the Wet
Earthbag performs better in the wet than any other mud building technique because the bags and wire hold the dirt together in case of a flood. Again, as with all mud buildings, rubble trench foundations, a good stem wall and wide eaves are necessary.

Maintenance
Negligible. Plaster touch-ups, that’s it.

Longevity
Because it’s a modern technique we’re yet to see how long earthbag lasts. But with decent rubble trench foundations, it’s estimated to stand at least a century.

Other Advantages
Fireproof, soundproof, bulletproof. Earthbag is the survivalists’ dream:)

Other Issues
In mixed (wet followed by dry) climates, the clayey earth in the bags will swell and shrink, especially in the first year. This can put pressure on door and window frames, as the walls expand, compress the frames and then contract again.
 
Cob

Difficulty of Technique
Cob can be time-consuming depending on the climate, as each layer needs to dry before laying the next. Patience and some know-how are necessary. It’s a beautifully simple technique though. Perfect for artists, and fun too.
 
Cost
Mud is free. Labour, time and learning the art is where you could spend money. A great technique if you can find volunteers and have no pressing time limit.
 
Insulation
Poor. R 0.2 per inch (better than concrete)
 
Thermal Mass
Yes.
 
Shape
The beauty of cob is you can create all kinds of wiggly, organic shapes with it.
 
Earthquakes and Extreme Weather
Cob is stronger than poorly constructed concrete or brick, but not so great in floods.
 
In the Wet
It all depends on how high your footings are, and how wide your eaves. Cob can resist a fair amount of rain and weathering, but is not recommended on flood plains.
 
In the Cold
Earthen walls work well with passive solar construction, and heat up like a battery. But they are not recommended in climates that are subzero for months on end (for more detail on that look here).
 
Maintenance
Easy and enjoyable. You’ll probably just be patching up the final layer or the lime wash in the areas that see hard rain.
 
Longevity
Centuries. Cob houses have been standing for centuries in the UK.
 
Straw Bale

​Difficulty of Technique
Straw bale is one of the fastest and least labour-intensive of all the natural builds. Bales are light compared to sacks filled with mud. You can have a house up in weeks. Finishing the interior may take longer though, and you’ll need some basic carpentry skills for a post-and-beam structure.
 
Cost
Usually pricier than mud building because of the post and beam structure. If you don’t have straw bales to hand this will also add to the cost.
 
Insulation
Excellent. R1.5 - 2.5 per inch depending on which study you follow. The way to go in cold climates.
 
Thermal Mass
Poor.
 
Shape
Although there are plenty of examples of alternative shapes created from straw bales, you are using a rectangular building block which lends itself better to straight lines when compared to cob or earthbag.
 
Earthquakes
Excellent. Straw bale has been known to survive an 82-ton force on a shake table.
 
In the Wet
Moisture is the enemy of straw bale, and I’ve seen a few cases of bale rot now, which can be the end of your house if you’re not careful. Yes experts know how to mitigate this, and if you construct a decent rubble trench foundation, a high stem wall and wide eaves, straw bale can stand plenty of rain. But if you’re a newbie, you need to bear this tendency to rot in mind.
 
Maintenance
Plaster touch-ups. Usually easy and enjoyable.
 
Longevity
With the correct foundations and moisture/fire protection, straw bale can last a lifetime.
 
Other Advantages
Soundproof. Very snug.
 
Other Issues
- We’ve seen a number of fires in straw bale homes (Both Simon Dale’s went up in flames), so you really need to be super careful about your wiring, wood burner pipe exits, and so on.
- Mice can move into the walls if they find a hole to enter by.

Wooden Cabin

Difficulty of Technique
You will need some reasonable carpentry skills to build a nice cabin.
 
Cost
Wood is always the priciest material in a natural build, especially if you’re going for quality, so a wooden cabin will no doubt cost more than a straw bale hut, and definitely more than cob or earthbag.
 
Insulation
Very poor. You’ll have to add decent insulation to the walls in cold climates.
 
Thermal Mass
Poor. Wooden huts neither store much heat, nor prevent temperature exchange. This is one of their major disadvantages in my opinion.
 
Shape
Wood wants to go straight, so geometrical shapes are going to be the most logical for a wooden structure.
 
Earthquakes
Better than stone. Worse than earthbag or straw bale.
 
Hurricanes
How your hut stands up to a tornado does depend on how well built it is, but generally? Rather you than me.
 
In the Wet
Raised wooden structures will survive the wet quite well. You can stick them on stilts, for example.
 
Maintenance
Grrr. I find wood a right pain in the backside to maintain (though it does depend on which wood you’re using, and the amount of weathering your hut will see). Usually you’ve got to prevent it from sun and rain damage, which is expensive and time consuming.
 
Longevity
This largely depends on the wood you are using. Some quality hardwoods last forever. Others, like commonly used pine, will need a lot of care.
 
Other Advantages
Super fast to build. If you’re in a tight spot and need a roof over your head fast, wood can get you there.

Other Issues
Not soundproof, nor fireproof.
 
Stone House

Difficulty of Technique
You’ve got to know what you’re doing with stone, especially if you’re building with a natural mud or lime mortar.
 
Cost
If you’ve got the stone on site, and you are a stonemason, fantastic! If not...ouch! In most countries hiring a stone mason is going to set you back a pretty penny.
 
Insulation
Poor.
 
Thermal Mass
Good. Performs way better with mud or lime mortar than with Portland cement.
 
Shape
Ah, stone is very aesthetic in the right hands. You can create all kinds of shapes, round or geometric.
 
Earthquakes
Stone usually performs badly in earthquakes because the stones shudder and shift, thus loosening.
 
In the Wet
There’s no real issue with stone houses in the wet.
 
Maintenance
Very easy. Perhaps a bit of mortar pointing every few years?
 
Longevity
With the correct foundations and drainage, stone houses last millennia.
 
Other Advantages
The stones have a personality, an it’s quite wonderful to live with them. Another great thing about stone wall is that mice can’t chew through them.
 
Wattle and Daub

Difficulty of Technique
I think wattle and daub is quite underrated and underused in the trendier world of natural building. It’s not horribly complex. You will need some basic carpentry skills for the post-and-beam structure (much like with straw bale), but the wattling and daubing itself is wonderfully easy, and enjoyable.
 
Cost
Similar to straw bale in terms of materials. The post-and-beam structure is where the money goes.
 
Insulation
Poor.
 
Thermal Mass
Good.
 
Shape
Geometric shapes are best for wattle and daub, as the laths are straight lines.
 
Earthquakes
Not sure. I only know them from the UK where there are all but no quakes. If you know, feel free to add in the comments, and I’ll update the post.
 
In the Wet
As with the other mud builds, if you have decent eaves and decent rubble trench foundations with a good stem wall, wattle and daub can cope well in the rain.
 
Maintenance
If lime washed, then the maintenance is pretty straight forward.
 
Longevity
Excellent. Wattle and daub houses from the 15th century are still very much alive and well in the UK.
 
Other related articles:
1. Can you build mud houses in cold climates:
http://www.themudhome.com/mudbuilding/can-you-build-mud-houses-in-cold-climates
2. Mud Building Techniques Overview
http://www.themudhome.com/mudbuilding/mud-building-techniques-overview
3. Getting to Know Cob (Oliver Goshey)
https://www.abundantedge.com/articles-1/2016/5/24/cob-getting-to-know-one-of-constructions-most-ancient-and-versatile-materials

​The Mud Home remains free (and ad-free) and takes me many hours a month to research and write, and is expensive to run. If you find any inspiration, useful information, or value in it, please consider becoming a patron to ensure its existence. For less than the price of a coffee you can join my private news feed where I post photos and updates of my new off-grid project I don’t want to share with the rest of the world, 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 articles are still coming.
 
Perks for Mud Patrons
$2 a month: Join my private news feed, and enjoy email priority.
$5 a month: All the above plus a monthly audio Q & A, and publicity for your project.
$10 a month: All the above, plus access to the private Facebook group and all my ebooks for free! (This is a good choice if you're planning, or in the middle of a build. I take my time to answer group members' questions in detail).

Homesteaders are known for their fabulous, organic veggie patches. And I would never deny there is something exquisite about vegetables that you have grown yourself, but it’s not my favourite method of generating edible foodstuff. Nor is it the easiest. There’s plenty to go wrong with any agricultural system: drought, pests, unsuitable temperatures, soil depletion. It only takes one frost at the wrong time of year, or one day when you couldn’t quite find enough water, and the whole lot is toast (or frozen toast).
 
Agriculture began roughly 10,000 to 12,000 years ago (23,000 years ago according to some sources). But humans have been surviving a whole lot longer than that, largely thanks to my favourite food skill: foraging. I love foraging. There is a sacredness about it. It invokes another type of awareness, too. As you wend your way through forests, or tread across meadows, your senses are heightened. And, as many an indigenous person has said before me, it’s as if the plants speak to you. It’s a very primal treasure hunt. Nooks will invite you. Glades will beckon. And before you know it, you are plucking dinner.

My Beginners’ Guide to Foraging
 
1. Clearly you don’t want to wind up like Christopher McCandless. Not everything is your friend, and tricksters lurk aplenty in the shadows of the forest. Even books don’t really cut it when it comes to safeguarding would-be foragers. You need a local guide to start out. I am indebted to my neighbour in Turkey, Dudu, for initiating me into the sacred art of foraging. Identifying edible plants correctly takes a while to learn. In the beginning our dulled modern eyes are not accustomed to the nuances of leaf structures and petal shapes. One green sprouty thing looks very similar to another. But once you’ve learned to identify two or three different leaf varieties, it gets easier.
 
2. Start with the green. Green leafy things pushing out of meadows tend to be safer (I said tend to be). Nuts are generally OK too. The high risk pursuits are the berries and mushrooms.
 
3. To really be able to thrive on foraged food you have to cultivate a decent relationship with your environs in all seasons. You can soon learn where certain plants tend to grow, and which conditions they like. After eight months of wandering round my new plot of land in Spain, I now know exactly where and when I can find chickweed, plantain, nettles, burdock, walnuts, chestnuts, wild mint, blackberries, and wild mint. Now I will begin to expand my foraging zone to find other species further afield.
 
4. If you really get into the zone, you can start calling plants forth. I often go on hikes and ask for food. Then I walk planless, following my intuition, letting the Earth herself pull me to where dinner is. This is just the best.

My Current Faves
In Turkey I was living on a different bunch of wild greens than here in northern Spain. In warm drier climates, things like purslane, carobs, nuts, mustard greens, and thistles might be more in abundance. Here is northern Spain, it's green green green.
 
Mallow (photo above)
Full of vitamin C and iron, mallow is a staple for foragers. It’s versatile and easy to cook with. You can eat it raw, too. Use it pretty much as you would spinach - in omelettes, or pastas.

Dock leaf
Back in Turkey, Dudu would go crazy for dock leaf. Here in the cooler north, no one seems interested in it. Yet it’s sooo yummy. It has a slightly bitter zang to it and works really well with wild garlic in risottos.

Plantain
I’m getting into plantain. There are two types: Long thin fingers and fatter, rounder leaves. Take your pick. Baby leaves are tastier. Plantain can be used in pasta sauces and risottos. It’s a bit tougher  than mallow, but still tasty. You can also make tea out of it which is good for coughs.

Chickweed
Ooh there’s nothing like a bit of chickweed in your sandwich or salad. It’s a lush, succulent edible, better raw than cooked.

Nasturtium
Another favourite of mine. The leaves are peppery, a bit like watercress, and you can use both leaves and flowers to make delicious salads. You can also make a pesto out of the leaves by bashing them in a pestle and mortar with some garlic, salt and olive oil. Mouth watering yet? :)

Mustard Greens
Back in Turkey, I was blessed with a lot of these on my land in winter. Mustard greens also grow by the coast here in northern Spain. They taste like a cross between kale and broccoli, and when cooked are very yummy. Not to be confused with Canola, though (thanks Kit Springs for the warning). https://saskmustard.com/production-manual/plant-description/how-to-distinguish-mustard-from-canola/index.htm

Nettles
Nettles! There’s not much you can’t do with them. They’re great as a tea, in soups, boiled or fried. I love boiling nettles, draining them and then pouring lemon, salt and olive oil onto them. Heck, you can even turn the stalks into twine if you want, and make clothes out of them! For eating, the tops are more delicious. Obviously nettles sting, so you need gloves when harvesting them. The sting disappears once they’ve been properly cooked (at least 5 minutes).

Dandelion (See top photo)
Pretty much everywhere has dandelions, and they are sooo versatile. You can eat all parts of the plant: root, stem, leaves and flowers. The roots are boiled like carrots. You can use the stems in risotto, and the leaves in salads. But that really is just the beginning. Here are sixteen more dandelion recipes from The Prairie Homestead: https://www.theprairiehomestead.com/2014/04/dandelion-recipes.html

Burdock
This is a new one for me. I had no idea what it was until a friend spied the giant leaves and mentioned it might be burdock. The roots are incredibly long, so you have to be careful when digging them up. You scrub them, peel them and boil them, and hey presto you have food. Here are more ways to use burdock from Ask a Prepper
http://www.askaprepper.com/how-to-cook-burdock/
 
Other edibles to look out for are chicory, milk thistle, bullrush (cattail), sorrel, arrowroot, wild onion, wild garlic... and many more.
 
If you fancy this in 3D, you can watch my foraging video “How to Find 7 Things to Eat in 5 Minutes”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OggyR1Ks4iY​

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.