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!"