So, someone asked me what exactly my role is in this William Morris-style commune, and my answer is "occasional labourer". Today, for example, while the MB played with his (real) excavator I dug over 200 sq feet of garden in classic 1950s style, then went down and admired the MB playing with his excavator. Despite the rain he finished the digging and the hole is dug. We now play the game of staking out the house. No more theory: now it has to be right and final. Deborah shows up and okays the position. The wind blows cold over the mud. The MB unwinds string. And the house is staked out: where those blue string lines intersect is where the four points of the house are located. I can now imagine the house starting to emerge from the red fireclay.
In the photos you can also admire Cape Breton's rain supply: no shortage.
While as potential rain harvesters we are delighted to experience so much rain in Cape Breton, it does make building a house foundation in fireclay a little tricky. Of course we can be heard cheering as the rain smashes onto the asphalt roof and pours off onto the ground by the house. Every drop is potentially part of a warm soapy shower. Collecting rainwater is an excellent antidote to excesses of rain.
The Master Builder ploughs ahead, swinging his Swiss bucket at the clay in between showers. He moves massive roots from the pit he is excavating and thunders at the heaps of mud with the backhoe. He is not set back by the persistent rain. Except that Wednesday night there is a thunder storm which lasts 3 hours and knocks out thousands of homes from the grid. In the morning the homehole looks like the photo with this post: a swimming pool.
Will the Master Builder be defeated by the elements? Will we retreat to the garage to play crib?
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