I picked up on a few ‘nuggets’ of inspiration on our recent trip to Cornwall.

From Travel

From Travel

I’ve got quite a lot of raised beds to build both to the front of the barn and in the garden at the back. I’m toying with the need for solid breeze block or brick backed structures against ‘looser’, less permanent dry stone structures. These lovely raised beds, photographed on my phone (so apologies for the quality of the pictures) at the Eden Project sway me down the dry stone route.

From Woodland

I thought it worth taking this picture of a hurdle – I’ve plenty of ash and willow that needs tidying up and maybe I could ‘lash’ some of these together from the smaller branches with the larger stuff going for firewood.

From Travel

Not one for the barn, but this living roof took my eye (after dragging it away from the beautiful estuary in the background). Although I worry about leaks, having a living breathing roof seems like a good use of an otherwise ‘dead’ space (unless it’s crammed with solar or PV panels of course!). The wall and gate are pretty special as well, although the wall is too perfect for the barn – a little too neat, tidy and precise – too correct – it would both show up and look down on my more ‘organic’ dry stone walling.

Seems like I’ve been repointing for ever…

Back in August I said…

I’m not sure that I’ll hit my end of September goal, but if I need a few more days in October then so-be-it. It’ll be a lovely feeling to get it finished and move onto something else (the to-be back garden is top of the list if the weather holds).

As predicted, I’ve not managed to complete all the repointing by the end of September, HOWEVER, I have completed the front wall — Horray! Photo’s to follow soon as I’ve not yet seen it properly dried out and therefore not had the opportunity to photograph it. Just the back and the gable end to finish in October (maybe more than a few days but I’ll get there). I think simply using a ladder to reach the top of the walls should be okay. I had considered needing scaffolding of some description, but the small amount of work I needed to use the ladder for at the front was fine – even more comfortable than my usual position at the top of a step ladder.

I did manage to drag myself away from the wall for an hour or so the other weekend and ventured into the wood to discover much to my disappointment that many of the trees I planted earlier in the year have died. I think a post-mortem is called for, although I suspect that not enough sunlight was reaching them.

This quotation from Roger Deakin’s last book (or rather the book assembled following his death from his unpublished writing) ‘Notes from Walnut Tree Farm’ raises a thought provoking point regarding the building materials we currently favour and the contrast between buildings ‘seeming’ to be vernacular and ‘truly’ being vernacular.

If only all the new houses in our villages were being built of timber and cob, locally grown in working woods, and the cob dug to form new ponds, which would soon fill with water and life. Think of the dragonflies and newts, the frogs and toads. And think of the beauty of the houses, and how naturally they would fit into the village landscape. The materials are the important thing. There is no reason at all why the designs of these houses should not be far more modern and innovative and original. The problem is that the planners have focused their attention on design, instead of on materials, and have missed the point about the truly vernacular.

The happy loop between buildings leading to life filled ponds and locally managed woodland also paints an attractive picture of a simple, happy, sustainable life now mostly lost.

I get laughed at when I insist on using a bowsaw from time-to-time instead of a chainsaw. I’m glad to read that I’m not the only one who appreciates the rhythm and relative silence of this method of cutting wood.

From Woodland

I worked with a small triangular bowsaw. It is surprising how much you can do with one in a day. Bowsaws have the supreme advantage of being quiet and allowing you to work at your own human pace. The manic dictatorship of the chainsaw seems to deafen you to all reason or judgement. A chainsaw is ideal for mechanical jobs like cutting up logs, but deprives you of the greatest pleasure of working in the woods: the opportunity to listen to the natural sounds around you.

From Waterlog: A Swimmer’s Journey Through Britain~ Roger Deakin

The process of coppicing is pretty straight-forward:

Coppicing is a traditional method of woodland management in which young tree stems are repeatedly cut down to near ground level. In subsequent growth years, many new shoots will emerge, and, after a number of years the coppiced tree, or stool, is ready to be harvested, and the cycle begins again. (Note that the noun coppice means a growth of small trees or a forest coming from shoots or suckers.)

Wikipedia (the font of all knowledge).

I think this diagram from Wikimedia Commons sums it up pretty well.

I’ve applied this technique to a few ash trees. In most cases a pretty messy exercise for me as the ground underfoot was pretty boggy and my big forestry boots sink nicely. But I got the trees down, cutting with my chainsaw or band saw depending on the width of the trunk and usually with some wrestling of the tree to get it finally down and / or out of the ground. I now have the inch plus thick stuff nicely stacked away in my shed ready for burning and the rest will be chipped for mulching.

From Woodland

Follow the Woodland link above for some other pictures of my recent tree related exploits…

Now I promise to get back inside and get some ‘real’ work done.