Building Update: Taking Shape

Saving soil for the garden.

My first step towards building my garden shed has been to pickax, rake, and shovel my way through the first six-inch layer of topsoil, roots, and rock and to wheelbarrow the soil away to a large pile by the garden.  This precious topsoil will be used in raised garden beds on the sunny slope.  With this task essentially complete I've begun to dig into the next layer of soil in order to prepare a level surface  for the foundation of the building.  Now before I say anything else I want you all to know that I did BEGIN with plans for a conventional, square structure.  BUT let's just say certain morphings occurred along the way, and now it looks like the garden shed is going to be shaped like a "B".  Yeah, that's right.  "B" for Building.  Or "B" for Barn.  Because I'm a writer, and writers need letters — BIG, BOLD letters — okay?  And because the sweat BEES (ground bees, yellow jackets, whatever) have led me into depths of wilderness communion that I do not wish to re-experience, so the garden shed must be BIG enough for my kitchen supplies so that next summer I won't go BONKERS amidst their incessant BUZZING, BOTHERSOME BALLYHOOS ever again!  But mainly it's "B"-shaped because I need to avoid BRUISING the roots of the BIG, BLACK oak tree that shades me while I work.  She's an old black oak, BURROWED through with BEETLES and ready to fall on my roof as soon as I'm able to BUILD such a thing, BUT I love her and am not cutting her down BECAUSE she is BEAUTIFUL and is enabling me to do my work even when the sun is really BLISTERING!

So, Welcome "B Abode"!  May you be filled with much joy, laughter, and BENEVOLENT BANTER!  May my life, filled to date with such inordinate, anxious striving — for work, approval, and love — be given rest, a place to "BE", simply and free, balanced and whole.

Nobody's Pussy Cat!

I THOUGHT it was a dog.  It LOOKED like a dog — medium sized, muscular, nearly the color of the leaf-strewn ground, only orangier.  It had a blocky build, squared shoulders and head, and a stubby tail about 4 or 5 inches long that wiggled some.  He, or she, was headed home, I thought, and ain't nothing sacred — a domesticated type saunterin' through my pristine wilderness plot!  But then he leapt up that tree!  A black oak.  He clamored some two or three yards off the ground and clung to the bark with glee, like he was after somethin'.  Then he somersaulted down, and repeated the whole thing again, mouth ajar and happy, like this was a game he played whenever he passed that particular spot.

I was eatin' oatmeal outside in a lawn chair, just relaxin', enjoying the mornin' air, when I realized it was a CAT I was watchin', and that it DIDN'T belong to any of the neighbors!

I gulped,  wondering "Is it really OKAY to be sitting here eating oatmeal while a very large, wild cat wanders by?"  Thankfully, after toying awhile with his favorite scratching post, he continued on his way, nonchalant and  never noting my presence at all.

Turns out it was a bobcat I saw in Whisperwood that morning.  They range widely and help control rodent populations.  Here's a great article on bobcats in Arkansas called  "Phantom of the Woodlands" if you'd like to learn more.  Don't expect ever to HEAR a bobcat.  They're silent in motion.  Look for the color of amber, moving quickly, in a line.

Breaking Ground

Photos of groundbreaking ceremonies usually show shovels thrust deeply into rich soil, but in northwestern Arkansas I knew better and pulled out the pickax instead. And the shovels are just for show anyway, of course.  You know workers will break out the backhoe as soon as the cameras are gone.  I may have to do that, as well, eventually.  But my biggest goal for this site isn't even to build a building but to RE-build ME.  Years of working behind a desk have left my muscles weak, my joints aching, bones thinning, and all rather prematurely for my age.  First and foremost I'm building my chance for the rest of my life, to have another healthy 40 years.  Additionally I want the emotional benefit that extended physically labor uniquely affords — the time allowed to breathe my own air, think my own thoughts, be with my own mental and physical energies combined, working for a good.  I saw a barn raised in a week recently.  That ain't gonna happen here.  The best way is not always the fastest or the easiest.

The building I'm making will be a garden shed, and will be my first permanent structure at Whisperwood.  It will have a pounded tire (tires crammed with soil; also called "rammed earth") foundation and straw bale walls with cob (clay and straw)  overlay.  The shed will provide  a cozy place to stay during the cold spells while I work on a larger dwelling for myself.

I'm uneasy during groundbreakings, and didn't know what to say at mine.  I hesitate to disturb the natural beauty of a place by building something new.  Like the lovely bluegrass lawn I pierced at my Ohio home while making my first garden, I say "Is it REALLY okay to dig here?"

Of course it was, and IS, and I only hope this dwelling I construct will be as productive and full of joy as was that little backyard garden years ago.

"Good Spirit.  Good Spirits.  Thank You for the ground," I said.

"And for the pickax!"