A strong foundation… or: how many words are there for snow?

Over a month has passed since our last post. It was a time for rest and patience. A new big load of snow got in the way of continuing. So our trailer got to spend many days on his own in the back of the garden but his presence was never forgotten and fires we could anyway make and enjoy its warmth with some hot wine, nice stories and wonderful inspiring company – it was a blast to have our friends and family members here for christmas and to have you stay here for so long, Eleonora! 🙂

Sam told me that in dutch there are countless words for rain. In this month I started to wonder, how many there are for snow. Or rather, how many different emotional expressions snow can bring; joy, boredom, frustration, impatience, calm, peace, curiosity, fascination… I felt a lot, as our home kept being covered in white and let the world underneath – gardenbeds, paths, stonewalls – become somewhat of a distant memory.

This would mark – for the first time really – the month where we also learned that a Tiny House build can enforce a lot of the same emotional expressions.

When mid January the snow started melting away we still took this development with a grain of happiness as well as sadness: Sam had just started to find his groove, and me a new found wintersport-passion, on the cross country skis; we got to discover our neighborhood on new paths and stand on hills, we’ve before only passed with the train.

However, it also meant that we were finally able to pick up our project of creating a stable foundation for our trailer (and finding the brussel sprouts in the garden without having to start a whole treasure hunt – but thats’s another story). So we stored the skis away and got the shovels and pickaxes (I learned this word recently; still call it “axe-pick-thingy” though) and started a process that would cost a lot of muscle power, endurance and nerves. I would call creating a good foundation not one of the more interesting aspects of the build. You don’t really see all that much of a result and it is somehow a repetitive work. And still in the end it is one of the most essential things you do for your future home. A strong foundation ensures a stable home; a home that does not suddenly sink into the floor after some days of heavy rain.

The ground beneath our Tiny House turned out to be a mixture of earth, roots, clay and after a some digging solid rock. The plan was to dig until the rock foundation and then fill the holes up with stones – first bigger ones, topped off with smaller pieces. We needed two big holes for the three wheels on each side, as well as five smaller ones for the pillars and the front wheel. Every hole was a new surprise – none of them where the same. Whereas one was completely grown through by sturdy roots, another was solid and absolutely nerve wracking clay more or less from the get go. Not only did we find clay, but some of the stones used for the foundation had beautiful shiny geods inside, only discovered after being hammered into smaller pieces. A true treasure, our Tiny House spot. Yuki chose to grace us with her presence on several occasions, inspecting the trailer and the newly dug holes and being heavily confused by the wet mud on her paws. She feels more and more like an outdoor cat though, expanding her outside trips, climbing on trees and checking out new areas and she also feels clearly already at home on our construction site.

So over the next days we trained our arm muscles – it were busy days, where at their end we always felt the work in our bodies. They also gave us the chance, to get even better acquainted with our surroundings. There was still always the time for a coffee, enjoying the sun on our faces, the view and inspired conversations or to show Sibylle the building process and plan barbecues with the train chauffeurs (they clearly start to be curious about what the heck is going on here – we get a lot of joyful waves, when they drive by). And sometimes we would take a moment to just to lay on the trailer and stare up to the sky. It is funny how different a landscape looks and feels once the snow is gone. We instantly had our first spring-feelings; sort of getting out of hibernation, rested and fully awake, eyes wide open and ready to move ahead with our project. Yet we knew, it was only early February and winter was far from over. The snow might come back and halt our build again.

Sam taught me a lot in those days about some tools and how to properly use them. I got to learn how to best and most efficiently smash stones in little pieces and how to correctly hold a pickaxe. I realized that I am better in neat and organized stonelayering than I am in smashing them and I also learned where my physical boundaries are and to not be upset with me when I reach them; construction work in that sense is not my forte. And it is not where my knowledge – or my passion for that matter – lay. But still it was and is important to me to be part of the build from start to finish; even if that means, to sometimes just stand next to Sam and observe how he works. Sam on his end also realized that he has limits and needed to learn when to stop and give himself a rest. Something, as he told me, he has never been particularly good at. This was especially hard, as we reached our last day of digging and filling up holes. It indeed came down to a race against the snow; on Sunday, the 7th of February it was due to return, so it was inevitable to get the work done before then. It seems almost natural under those circumstances to put your sensations, such as hunger, pain, exhaustion, aside and to just push through. I myself know that very well from long distance hikes. No matter how much my toes hurt after a few days, I cannot, do not want to, stop walking until I reach the destination I set myself.

As all the holes were dug and filled up, moving the trailer posed another challenge; with the help of some wooden planks we planned to maneuver the trailer on the foundation spots; moving the trailer by hand: something, that back in December with all the snow was simply not possible and now worked surprisingly well (easy for me to say, I pulled the light weight – Sam did the heavy lifting. Literally).

After a strengthening lunch and a much needed rest, we set up for the last part of this step in our project. Under a coat of Sahara sand, that somehow made its way to Switzerland and wrapped everything in a slightly spooky reddish-yellow light and with daylight slowly fading, we gathered some remaining strength and pushed and pulled our future home to it’s final spot. After that it was all about leveling; with the help of some water scales we made sure the trailer was leveled (as much fun as it would be for Yuki to observe rolling marbles on an uneven floor 😉 ).

And no 24 hours later the snow did come back, covering everything in white yet again. So the pulling through was after all worth it and we are very grateful for the help we got, to make this deadline – thank you so much, Julia and Gian Mauro!

It is exciting to be able to say that the trailer is now exactly where it will stay. And that those are now exactly the views we will have, once the house is built.

For me and Sam to do the final steps – or rather pushes – together, just the two of us, was a beautiful experience. Working together towards something that is very near to both our hearts and for what we share the same kind of excitement and the stakes are equally high for both of us. It was a bonding moment which added a new layer to our relationship.

Now we get to go in another quick hibernation-break, before we get on to the next step: structure! 😀