Memphis Democrat
May 17, 2009

Wow, what a week! Some times of the year just feel so jam-packed that you have trouble remembering everything you crammed into the previous week as you contemplate all that approaches in the next. Ted here with this week's update from Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage.

Construction milestones keep piling up here. I spent the week working on ceiling joists for Jan's house, which meant I got a boost up ten or so feet off the prairie and began to enjoy a better view of goings-on in the rest of the village. A satisfying moment, that is, when something you're building begins to hold you up where before there was only air.

Ziggy's cob hut grew a sod roof with a work party Monday afternoon. He'd been digging sod for some time from the spot where Ma'ikwe will soon dig her foundation, and the work party employed many hands to put it all in place up on his conical roof. I'm always pleased to have another example of natural building techniques to show folks who come to visit and tour Dancing Rabbit, and this year we'll have at least two living roofs in place. Thanks, Ziggy and all!

The Timberframe sprouted new limbs this week as well. Bear's timberframing efforts, including perfect mortises and tenons pegged with black locust dowels manufactured by Thomas, came together impressively on the foundation laid last year. The taller of the two new bents stood 15 feet tall, with three 8x8 posts connected by beams at two levels. After a morning's team efforts at raising the bent Tuesday, Bear, Jennifer and crew began to realize just how incredibly heavy the thing is. Brows bent, some muttered about calling in heavy machinery.

Come afternoon, however, with a few minor technical hurdles conquered, the process was begun again, and this time went more smoothly. Three wall jacks climbed three long 2x4s in unison, with a jacker and jack whacker at each, and others managing support blocking. The 2x4s began to show considerable strain, arcing under the weight despite stiffening braces added to each as the jacks climbed.

The team then transitioned to a come-along tied to a tree, aided by ten or so people with long notched pikes to push the bent up. Two more come-alongs hastily added along the way helped stabilize the gains of the brute force applied by folks pushing from the ground. At last the bent reached vertical, the weight dropped off completely to the foundation, and the crew braced it well. We then moved the heavy timbers of the smaller bent into place for assembly the next day, and celebrated the tactical success with a variety of Cob's home brew. It was a pleasure to take part in such a cooperative endeavor.

Weather began to occupy our minds more with the heavy downpours midweek. With thunder pealing across the heavens and the darkest of looming cloud fronts muscling over the land for hours straight, it was no surprise when word went out that a tornado had touched down near Edina and was headed our way. Right around dinner time Wednesday, most everyone in the village gathered at or near the Mercantile, in whose basement is located DR's new storm shelter. Many went preemptively down cellar, while others hung on to the porch watching the sky, weather radios playing close at hand over the deafening racket of a million fat rain drops on the steel porch roof, ready to head down cellar if necessary. By comparison, the shelter was a calm, muted, comforting place despite 30 or so occupants and a few wet dogs. Nothing like a little collective storm anxiety to bring us all together!

We emerged fifteen minutes later, dazed to see the ephemeral rivers flowing through the village and more dark cloud fronts still looming to south and west. Everywhere the village appeared to be covered by a vast puddle, and my path stabilization and rebuilding efforts on the path past Ironweed kitchen were washed away by whitewater for the fourth or fifth time... [sigh]. Thankfully nobody was injured.

Tamar's parents visited for part of the week, witnessing both the bent raising efforts and the first storm shelter mustering. Her Mother Eva led an evening of musical chanting in lieu of our weekly song circle, and after the storm's bombast I found the chanting calming and meditative. While here, they commented on how fun it is to visit every two or three years and see so much progress in the village. We hope they're return for more visits in the future.

I thought it would be hard to best the previous day's meteorological theatrics, but Thursday's deluge impressed for its persistence and sheer volume, wave after wave pouring down on the land, the creek bottom flooding again. I value deeply our daily interaction with the physical world above and around us here. Huge storms have a way of defining your place in the world a bit. So humbling.

Sunday morning surprisingly brought some patchy frost, so we were glad not to have already planted out our tomato seedlings, even though they're huge and ready to break out of their pots. With the forward forecast favorable, though, Tamar wasted no time setting several dozen in beds under newly erected trellises mid-morning, after the sun had chased all the frost away till autumn.

We wrapped up the week with a gathering of Ye Aulde Barne Raisin' Society to whip the machine shed into shape Sunday afternoon. The machine shed gathers a fascinating array of odds and ends from various building projects and donations, and it needs to be combed through and organized on occasion. The cooperative work coaxed a surprising amount of free space out of the building while making the various resources more accessible to all. Cooperative efforts like organizing a common building resource aren't always glamorous, but they sure improve our quality of life.

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