Things are moving along. The raised beds on the yurt terrace are now substantially complete. Just one more hügelbeet section left to create and the new beds will be ready for their first growing season.
As physicist Michio Kaku wrote yesterday, “Global warming is controversial, of course, but the controversy is mainly over whether human activity is driving it. There is almost uniform agreement from both sides of the debate that the Earth is heating up.”
More specifically, the controversy centres around whether the rise in global CO2 levels is a direct result of mans’ activities or whether this is something the planet itself is responsible for. This is seen (somewhat linearly) as the engine behind the rise in temperatures. So can both sides be right if one says global warming is caused by human activity and the other says it isn’t?
They can if the rise in temperatures and CO2 levels is the Earth’s response to mankind’s activities.
It sounds Germanic and it is. Hügelkultur, Heugelkultur, hugelkultur is growing things in Hügelbeets (“mound beds”) and they have a long tradition in Germany.
Raised beds then.
Yes, but they’re raised beds with a difference.
The base of the bed is a thick layer of wood in various stages of decomposition. Largest pieces go to the bottom, followed by smaller lengths, clippings, brush, bark, etc, then straw, hay, leaves, followed by the upturned sod or topsoil removed to create the bed. The idea is that the wood as it decomposes not only constitutes a source of organic material and fertility for the bed, mimicking what happens on the forest floor, but acts as a giant sponge, holding a large reservoir of winter rainfall and releasing it to plants as they grow through dry summers, reducing the need for irrigation. A deep enough layer of wood may be sufficient to hold enough water for the entire summer.
I’ve been wanting to build some raised beds for the vegetable garden. Our experience last year proved that borderless beds were effective to a degree, but we had a lot of casualties at the boundaries despite basing the beds on a double-reach, no-dig principle. With no available mulch material and no difference in level, the proliferation of summer greenery soon blurred the boundaries and we were forever accidently straying into growing areas, so I wanted to distinguish permanent ‘growing areas’ from ‘treading areas’ much more obviously and effectively, especially with moving to a more diverse and mixed companion planting regime, with perennials as well as annuals.
The first year’s conventional-style plantings of annuals served well enough to see what grew well and what didn’t, to monitor the water and light availability across the plot through a growing season, and to gradually clear the soil of its impenetrable tangle of bramble and nettle roots, but it was hardly ‘permaculture’. And as we now have some home-made compost and mulch to add to the beds for the next growing season, I wanted to lay the groundwork for a more sustainable way forward.
Political comment isn’t usually found on this blog. But some things are just too pivotal to pass over. ‘Cablegate’ in conceptual terms mirrors the practical processes necessary to ensure survival in the increasing likelihood of food crises and civil unrest as the inevitable train wreck that is the western economic model ploughs into the buffers of unsustainability at the end of the line. It’s time to wake up, think for ourselves and stop waiting around in expectation that the ‘right’ solution will come twinkling down like fairy dust from somewhere higher up the pecking order.
When climbing a very steep learning curve or making a big transition, I’m discovering that it often makes a lot more sense to take lots of small steps than attempt the leap in a few giant ones. It’s as much about preserving sanity as anything, and that’s one thing it definitely helps to keep a hold of when trying anything like this …
Mindful of Peak Oil, not to mention expense, climate-weirding pollution and general noisy smelly unpleasantness, I set out with the intention of trying to stay fossil fuel-free on the quinta. But having already succumbed to a couple of petrol-driven power tools like a brushcutter and chainsaw … and of course there’s the car … I’ve had to be pragmatic about it yet again.
This post is a preliminary enquiry to see if there is likely to be enough local interest to make it worthwhile planning and running this construction as a series of workshops. The construction will be going ahead anyway. (If you’re interested, please leave a comment below rather than responding on eg. Facebook. Comments on this page won’t get lost or superceded by more recent news.)
The thing with dry stone schist buildings is that they’re dry stone. A good wind will whistle straight in through the walls, and the heat from a stove will whistle straight out. And there’s a fair variety of wildlife that comes and goes and sets up home in the gaps between the stones.
We have no particular objection to sharing the building with the local wildlife, but aren’t so keen on the winter winds and losing all our heat.
With the roof now planked and the wall heads being built up and capped ready for laying the insulation, we’re starting work on pointing the stonework in the interior of the building. It’s a messy job, so one preferably done before we get around to replacing the floors.
Today’s progress on the roof … highlighting the asymmetry of the building. I’m very glad now I decided to stay with the original schist roof covering. Not only for the beauty of the natural stone, but because regular tiles would be a nightmare to lay and would end up looking pretty silly.
Entire roof now planked
Sometimes, when the number of Big Things needing done threatens to become overwhelming, it’s occasionally worthwhile to do a small thing, just for that sense of achievement, satisfaction and progress it can give. Well that’s my excuse at least.
Small thing in the foreground. Big Thing in the background
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