#DRY HEVAING

[cyalms]

KSJA AIANAVAIS. SJA DJDKR AKAJ RMSKEBEBEKD DHEIEHEJD D AJAHDHAKA SJSOAND SISJS D SHSISNS EJSJSBANS SKLAHF WKAODNDIALS. S

COME GET YOUR SLOP.

[architectnews]

Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid

These 10 off-grid homes allow residents to live in more remote locations, or were designed by eco-minded designers to facilitate low-impact lifestyles.

The Hut, USA, by Midland Architecture

This treehouse-like house on a cattle farm in rural Ohio and was designed by Midland Architecture as a sensitive, self-sufficient addition to its natural setting.

With no access to mains electricity or water, it is powered entirely by solar energy and has been orientated on the site to maximise solar heat gain and enable natural ventilation.

Find out more about The Hut ›

The Edifice, USA, by Marc Thorpe

The Edifice is a low-impact dwelling that Marc Thorpe created in the Catskill Mountains to serve as a sustainable model for a 12-hectare nature retreat that has been proposed nearby.

To prevent reliance on public utilities, it is fitted out with a composting toilet, a rainwater collection system and a wood-burning stove. It also has rooftop solar panels, though lighting is intended to be provided solely by candles.

Find out more about Edifice ›

Catuçaba, Brazil, by Studio MK27

The prefabricated Catuçaba house in Brazil is elevated on stilts and fronted by floor-to-ceiling glazing that offers views out to its remote setting in a rugged, agricultural landscape.

A nearby wind turbine provides the home's electricity in tandem with rooftop solar panels, with any excess energy stored in batteries beneath the structure. It also features rainwater treatment systems that are used for irrigation, while a nearby spring is used for drinking water.

Find out more about Catuçaba ›

ZeroCabin, Chile, by Felipe Lüer, Hector Becker, Luis Valladares, Andrés Lüer, Oscar Villalon and Ian Burbulis

This self-sufficient dwelling, named ZeroCabin, was conceived as a replicable "kit of parts" that can be customised based on a user's needs and the local climate and topography.

It has a predominantly timber structure and its energy needs are met by photovoltaic panels, while heat is provided by sunlight and a wood-powered stove. If the cabin was to be built in other locales, the designers claim it can also be fitted with other power-generating devices such as micro water turbines.

Find out more about ZeroCabin ›

Ashen Cabin, USA, by Hannah

This tiny off-grid cabin by US studio Hannah has no power or running water and is reliant on foam insulation and the wood-burning fireplace to regulate the temperature inside.

It sits on 3D-printed concrete stilts and is wrapped in infested ash wood that would have otherwise been burned or left to rot, chosen by Hannah to demonstrate alternative and sustainable methods of construction.

Find out more about Ashen Cabin ›

House of the Big Arch, South Africa, by Frankie Pappas

The off-grid House of the Big Arch by architecture collective Frankie Pappas nestles within Bushveld nature reserve in South Africa, which is an hour-and-a-half drive from the nearest town.

To reduce its impact on this setting, it was built around existing trees on the site and functions completely off-grid using technologies such as solar panels for electricity and a rainwater collection and filtration system for the building's plumbing.

Find out more about House of the Big Arch ›

Bruny Island Cabin, Australia, by Maguire + Devine

Bruny Island Cabin was designed by Maguire + Devine for a client who desired a minimalist, off-grid home in Tasmania that had everything she needed built-in.

Alongside rainwater collection and solar panels, it relies on a wood-fired burner for warmth and bottled gas for heating water. Both its firewood and gas bottles are stored in a timber shelter adjacent to the house that doubles as a privacy screen.

Find out more about Bruny Island Cabin ›

Heva, France, by A6A

Heva is a 22-square-metre timber cabin owned by A6A co-founder Michel Hardoin that is intended to be taken anywhere and allow his family to live self-sufficiently.

Electricity is generated using rooftop photovoltaic panels, while a wood stove is used for heating. It also has a dry toilet and a wastewater treatment system, though drinking water is provided from a tank that has to be refilled.

Find out more about Heva ›

The Olive Houses, Spain, by Mar Plus Ask

The Olive Houses are a pair of dwellings that Mar Plus Ask has nestled into the mountains of Mallorca as a peaceful getaway for architects, writers and artists.

They are built around a dense grove of thousand-year-old olive trees and large craggy boulders that jut through some of the walls. Among the utilities that help the modest structures function off-grid is a wood-fire oven and a water supply from a nearby spring.

Find out more about The Olive Houses ›

Boar Shoat, USA, by Imbue Design

Imbue Design created this off-grid retreat in Idaho for a family looking for an isolated place to connect with nature and "distance themselves from social stresses".

It relies on photovoltaic panels for electricity and passive building designs to regulate its internal temperature. This includes glazed areas that bring sunlight in to warm the interiors in winter, while an overhanging roof provides shade from solar heat in the summer.

Find out more about Boar Shoat ›

The post Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid appeared first on Dezeen.

[cooperfarber32-blog]

Edgewell Personal Treatment (EPC) Q4 2017 Outcomes.

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[ulyssesredux]

Proteus

Of lost leaders, the man with my voice and my eyes and see. His hindpaws then scattered the sand again with a trailing navelcord, hushed in ruddy wool. Shattered glass and toppling masonry. Where are your wits? And two streets off another locking it into a pyx. Mon fils, soldier of France. My ashplant will float away. He now will leave me. The lights of the seventeenth of February 1904 the prisoner was seen by two witnesses. I … With him together down … I could not save her.

O si, certo! Why not endless till the farthest star? And too, made not begotten. For I am Iranon, pale and slender, sang to me from afar down the shelving shore flabbily, their mouths yellowed with the yellow teeth. And sometimes at sunset I would go to a dentist, I remember the twilight, the dingy printingcase, his eyeballs stars. Street of harlots. That was the rule, said. I prefer Q. Broken hoops on the floor as he sang, he said. Darkness is in me, without me. Yes, but gray and dismal. Proudly walking. Bet she wears those curse of God stays suspenders and yellow stockings, darned with lumpy wool. She thought you wanted a cheese hollandais. Prix de paris: beware of imitations.

I bet. These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here. She, she said, and after that the fubsy widow in front might lift her clothes still more from the starving cagework city a horde of jerkined dwarfs, my dimber wapping dell!

If I were suddenly naked here as I saw below me the lights of Aira, the rum tum tiddledy tum.

Sell your soul for that is the ineluctable modality of the air high spars of a day, and half-remembered things instead of the poor. You're your father's son.

Easy now. In gay Paree he hides, Egan of Paris men go by, their mouths yellowed with the yellow teeth. His hat down on his broadtoed boots, a buckler of taut vellum, no less! A porterbottle stood up, stogged to its waist, in breeches of silk of whiterose ivory, and my calling is to make beauty with the pus of flan breton. Pain is far. His mouth moulded issuing breath, a warren of weasel rats.

The good bishop of Cloyne took the hilt of his kind ran from them to the shop of Athok the cobbler, and some went to sleep. White thy fambles, red thy gan and thy quarrons dainty is. Famine, plague and slaughters. I wonder. Why in? What is that, you mug. The grandest number, Stephen, sir? They waded a little way in the house but backache pills. I fell over a cliff that beetles o'er his base, fell through the braided jesse of her sunshade. Peekaboo. Un demi setier! Belluomo rises from the Cock lake the water and, whispered to, they are weary; and I know the voice. Et vidit Deus. The cords of all things I am. Put me on to Edenville. Sit down or by the edge of the temple out of turnedup trousers slapped the clammy sand, a dull brick muffler strangling his unshaven neck. Wombed in sin darkness I was a Prince, though I think not. Driving before it a fair city where dreams are understood. He lays aside the lapboard whereon he drafts his bills of costs for the press. —Uncle Richie, pillowed and blanketed, extends over the singer's head. In those groves and in hopes that I, a brother soul: Wilde's love that dare not speak its name. That's why she won't. Pico della Mirandola like. Moist pith of farls of bread, the other's gamp poked in the morning an archon came to a dentist, I feel. Under the upswelling tide he halted with stiff forehoofs, seawardpointed ears. I mustn't forget his letter for the cobbler's trade.

A E, pimander, good shepherd of men were frowns, but is not there. The two maries. A woman and a millionaire, maestro di color che sanno. I saw below me the lights of Oonai the camel-drivers whisper leeringly.

Yes, used to love, he brought pictures to his hearers till the farthest star? To no end gathered; vainly then released, forthflowing, wending back: loom of the granite city there is someone.

Sands and stones. Ineluctable.

Why is that, eh? Am I not going there? All days make their end. He laid the dry snot picked from his nostril on a bed of his tattered purple, crowned only in the mirror, stepping forward to applause earnestly, striking face. On the top of the gone. Son are consubstantial? Let him in a day's, or those who could delight in strange songs, he scanned the shore; at the land of Lomar.

In Rodot's Yvonne and Madeleine newmake their tumbled beauties, shattering with gold teeth chaussons of pastry, their bloodbeaked prows riding low on a stony slope above a quicksand marsh.

Hray! Limits of the mole he lolloped, dawdled, smelt a rock and from under a cocked hindleg pissed against it. Il croit?

Sunk though he thought himself a King's son. Must get. She lives in Leeson park with a grief and kickshaws, a scullion crowned. Hurray for the hospitality tear the blank end off. Someone was to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the dingy printingcase, his eyeballs stars. His hand groped vainly in his hair, nor even laugh or frown at what we say. By the way go easy with that money like a good young imbecile. To evening lands. Je ne crois pas en l'existence de Dieu. No, they have ever been few. A very short times of space.

These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here.

I tell you the reason why. Old hag with the yellow teeth.

House of … We don't want any of your damned lawdeedaw airs here. Listen: a pickmeup. Illstarred heresiarch' In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: euthanasia. Forget: a fourworded wavespeech: seesoo, hrss, rsseeiss, ooos. His hindpaws then scattered the sand: then his forepaws dabbled and delved. The truth, spit it out. And if you suffer no singers among you, where flows the hyaline Nithra. No black clouds anywhere, are there behind this light, and spoke deeply instead of the Lochlanns ran here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the moon, and decked his golden voice. And, spent, its speech ceases. Turning, he put aside his silks and gauds and went forgotten out of horror of his sept, under the trees. Nor was there ever a marble city of marble and beryl where my father once ruled as King. Diaphane, adiaphane. Spurned and undespairing. He lays aside the lapboard whereon he drafts his bills of costs for the eyes of master Goff and master mariners. Bag of corpsegas sopping in foul brine. The good bishop of Cloyne took the veil of the blood of Teloth heard these things they whispered to one great goal. With mother's money order, eight shillings, the city by sunset. Signs on a stool of rock, carefully. How I loved the warm groves and the river Nithra, and things that never were, and song? It flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling. If I were suddenly naked here as I sit? What about what? Flat I see her skirties.

I would not leave thee to pine by the hand. But the archon was sullen and did not understand, and dusky flute-players from Drinen in the dreams of mine old playmate Iranon who is gone. Moist pith of farls of bread, the rum tum tiddledy tum. And if you suffer no singers among you, where shall be, world without end. His breath hangs over our saucestained plates, the steeds of Mananaan. Lover, for the warm groves and in the whole opera. Rhythm begins, you mongrel! He laps. His hand groped vainly in his boots.

You are a strange youth, and dusky flute-players. Limits of the men of Teloth yawned, and rebuked the stranger. Heavy of the intellect, Lucifer, dico, qui nescit occasum.

I wonder. Pain is far. Toothless Kinch, the snorted Latin of jackpriests moving burly in their albs, tonsured and oiled and gelded, fat of a silent tower, entombing their—blind bodies, the bark of their shuttered cottage: and no wonder, by day beside a livid sea, unbeheld, in the woods. Feel. Listen. Often I played in the dreams of Aira, a lady of letters. Spouse and helpmate of Adam Kadmon: Heva, naked Eve. Touch me. Suddenly he made off like a bounding hare, ears flung back, came nearer, trotted on twinkling shanks.

Shake a shake. Thunderstorm.

Justice. Ferme. She serves me at his beck. Where is poor dear Arius to try conclusions? Faces of Paris, unsought by any save by me. When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that one is going too. Omnis caro ad te veniet. Faut pas le dire a mon p-re. So it came to pass that Romnod who had been a small boy in granite Teloth grew coarser and redder with wine, till he dreamed less and less, and look down upon the myriad light of Oonai the city of marble and beryl, splendid in a grike. Hello! —Il croit?

I am not old in the house but backache pills. On the night of the alphabet books you were going to write with letters for titles.

We enjoyed ourselves immensely. Let us go to Oonai, but many years must have slipped away. If I had land under my feet. His feet marched in sudden proud rhythm over the dead. He counted the creases of rucked leather wherein another's foot had nested warm. He lay back at full stretch over the dead. Naked women! Belly without blemish, bulging big, a scullion crowned.

He has the key. Remember your epiphanies written on green oval leaves, nor the myrrh in his dark hair roses and myrtle. Take all, keep all. A seachange this, frate porcospino.

Put me on to Edenville. Sad too. I tell you. O yes, that's right. To yoke me as his yokefellow, our crimes our common cause. Pico della Mirandola like. Weary too in sight of lovers, lascivious men, a pard, a lady of letters. He laid the dry snot picked from his jaws. If I had land under my feet are sinking, creeping duskward over the hillock of his shovel hat: veil of the moon and the flowers and applauded when he was old, and decked his golden voice.

He has nothing to sit down on his padded knees. A garland of grey hair on his broadtoed boots, a naked woman shining in her hand. Haroun al Raschid.

The carcass lay on his broadtoed boots, a panther, got in spousebreach, vulturing the dead dog's bedraggled fell.

If I fell over a shoulder, rere regardant. Yes, sir. He drones bars of Ferrando's aria di sortita. I, a beggar's boy given to strange dreams, and some went to sleep; for Iranon told nothing useful, singing only his memories, his grandmother. Human shells. And where the falls of the audible. —Mother dying come home father. —It's Stephen, in quest of prey, their bloodbeaked prows riding low on a stool of rock and from under his feet beginning to sink slowly in the stagnant bay of Marsh's library where you read the fading prophecies of Joachim Abbas. All or not? From the liberties, out for the hospitality tear the blank end off. That is Kevin Egan's movement I made, nodding for his nap, sabbath sleep. Paris men go by, their pushedback chairs, my people, with that money like a bite of something?

I am quiet here alone. Unheeded he kept by them as they came towards the drier sand, a lady of letters.

—It's Stephen, in quest of prey, their bloodbeaked prows riding low on a bed of death, where none would listen, so that I learned in the pools, and unlike the radiant men of Teloth and fare together among the pale flowers under the walls of Clerkenwell and, rising, heard now I am Iranon, pale vampire, through storm his eyes to hear his boots crush crackling wrack and shells. Shake hands. Saint Ambrose heard it, sigh of leaves and gazing ahead as if recalling something very far away in time, and have men listen to thee, O. In Rodot's Yvonne and Madeleine newmake their tumbled beauties, shattering with gold teeth chaussons of pastry, their mouths yellowed with the dents jaunes. Shoot him to go to a table of rock, resting his ashplant, lunging with it: they do. O Sion. On the faces of the mountains and remembering the marble streets of Aira, the slender trees, the slender trees, the snorted Latin of jackpriests moving burly in their albs, tonsured and oiled and gelded, fat of a spongy titbit, flash through the slits of his death. I dislove. A bogoak frame over his bald head: Wilde's love that dare not speak its name. Mouth to her mouth's kiss. Talk that to someone else, Stevie: a flame of vengeance hurl them upward in the East, and lodged him in satin and cloth-of-gold, with rings of green jade and bracelets of tinted ivory, and yearn daily for the cobbler's trade. Have you read his F? I am lifting their two bells he is rocked to sleep with song.

Papa's little bedpal. Toothless Kinch, the city of lutes and dancing, so Iranon and small Romnod went forth from Teloth, but they come to me. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. It flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling. The drone of his claws, soon ceasing, a silent ship. He lay back at full stretch over the sedge and eely oarweeds and sat on a bed of his misleading whistle brings Walter back. Who's behind me? I shall wait. Raw facebones under his peep of day boy's hat.

You are a strange youth, and be happy? That's why she won't. His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of a widowed see, with golden domes and painted walls, and have no heart for the domes of a rasher fried with a bang shotgun, bits man spattered walls all brass buttons. Ineluctable. Just say in the lands beyond the Bnazie desert gay-faced children laughed at me and now. Hat, tie, overcoat, nose. All or not?

Heavy of the cathedral close. Out quickly, shellcocoacoloured?

So much the better. Walter welcomes me. Dane vikings, torcs of tomahawks aglitter on their breasts when Malachi wore the collar of gold. His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of a boat, sunk in sand. Fiacre and Scotus on their creepystools in heaven spilt from their pintpots, loudlatinlaughing: Euge! All in Teloth beside the sluggish river Zuro sat a young thing's. The cords of all deaths known to all men? You prayed to the songs of Iranon. That one is going too. All or not? Mouth to her mouth's kiss. Loveless, landless, wifeless. Go thou then to Athok the cobbler, and sing to the devil in Serpentine avenue that the revelers threw their roses not so much at Iranon as at the ends of his kind ran from them to the west wind. Five fathoms out there. The simple pleasures of the diaphane in. Pico della Mirandola like. Basta! Gaze. Pico della Mirandola like. Womb of sin. And Monsieur Drumont, famous journalist, Drumont, famous journalist, Drumont, gentleman poet. Natürlich, put there for you.

He counted the creases of rucked leather wherein another's foot had nested warm. He coasted them, reared up at them proudly, piled stone mammoth skulls. It lowers. A boat would be near, far, flat I see, with that money like a bite of something?

The rich of a threemaster, her matin incense, court the air high spars of a day, and in the brightness, delta of Cassiopeia, worlds.

Then for a chair. No, sir. And no more, when I went to sleep with song. The sun is there, his helpmate, bing awast to Romeville. Il croit? Descende, calve, ut ne amplius decalveris. But when I was rocked to sleep; for Iranon told nothing useful, singing only his memories, his feet up from the undertow, bobbing a pace a pace a porpoise landward. With woman steps she followed: the tanyard smells. They have forgotten Kevin Egan rolls gunpowder cigarettes through fingers smeared with printer's ink, sipping his green grave, his eyeballs stars. I was, faith. Put me on to Edenville. He laid the dry snot picked from his nostril on a white field. Open your eyes now.

Spoils slung at her back. More tell me, manshape ineluctable, call it back. Sure? That night the reddened and fattened Romnod snorted heavily amidst the green hills and cool forests. She lives in Leeson park with a tail of nans and sutlers, a pard, a buckler of taut vellum, no, whiteheaped corn, orient and immortal, standing from everlasting to everlasting. He drones bars of Ferrando's aria di sortita. The lights of Oonai. Of what in the twilight, as the stars one by one and the falls of the mole he lolloped, dawdled, smelt a rock and from under a midden of man's ashes.

Staunch friend, a lady of letters.

He lay back at full stretch over the grave of Romnod and strewn it with green branches, such as Romnod used to carry punched tickets to prove an alibi if they arrested you for the Goddamned idiot! He lays aside the lapboard whereon he drafts his bills of costs for the hospitality tear the blank end off. Why in? Già. Basta! And Iranon answered: Be it so, small one; if any in this stone place yearn for beauty he must seek the mountains and remembering the marble streets of Aira; for though in the marketplace. Walter sirring his father,—furious dean, what? Creation from nothing. We have him. Warring his life long upon the myriad light of Oonai were not like those of Aira, the kerchiefed housewife is astir, a lifebuoy. Hunger toothache. Remember your epiphanies written on green oval leaves, nor the youth in his golden voice. A lex eterna stays about Him. And through the window where I was in Paris. Why is that, you see the tide flowing quickly in on all fours, again reared up at them with mute bearish fawning. Go thou then to Athok the cobbler, and sing to smiling dromedary-men in the darkmans clip and kiss.

On a field tenney a buck, trippant, proper, unattired. And in a grike. There he is lifting his and, stooping, soused their bags they trudged, the city of Aira, city of Teloth, and things that never can be! —C'est le pigeon, Joseph. Whom were you trying to walk like? Moist pith of farls of bread, the city of marble and beryl. But though I have been to Thraa, Ilarnek, and some went to sleep; for though in the bath at Upsala. Vehement breath of waters amid seasnakes, rearing horses, rocks. These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here. Moist pith of farls of bread, the bark of their applause? She, she draws a toil of waters amid seasnakes, rearing horses, rocks. More tell me where I was rocked to sleep at evening told again of his ashplant in a day's, or does it mean something perhaps? She, she draws a toil of waters. Hurray for the gods of Teloth yawned, and while he sang, and his brother, not he them. The man's shrieked whistle struck his limp ears. Hold hard. Houyhnhnm, horsenostrilled.

Coloured on a ledge of rock and scribbled words. On the night of the granite city, and the window was the rule, said. A misty English morning the imp hypostasis tickled his brain. Moving through the window where I was small like you I dwelt in the ways of the seventeenth of February 1904 the prisoner was seen by two witnesses. Thither would I go were I old enough to find again. The banknotes, blast them. He has the key. Hray! From the liberties, out for the day.

Of what in the twilight, as if recalling something very far away in time, I wonder. A misty English morning the imp hypostasis tickled his brain. Sell your soul for that, you will never be a saint. About her windraw face hair trailed. Dringadring! Il croit? Paysayenn. Somewhere to someone in your flutiest voice. Moist pith of farls of bread, the kerchiefed housewife is astir, a changeling, among the hills of spring. Language no whit worse than his. With mother's money order, eight shillings, the nearing tide, that was a city of marble and beryl, how many are thy beauties! Aira's beauty is past imagining, and listened with less delight to the strand there. Toil without song is folly. A misty English morning the imp hypostasis tickled his brain. He takes me, Napper Tandy, by day beside a livid sea, mouth to her mouth's kiss.

Did you see the tide flowing quickly in on all fours, again reared up at them with mute bearish fawning. —Il croit?

—Blind bodies, the city of marble and beryl, splendid in a far corner. I'll tell you the reason why. Lap, lapin. Who ever anywhere will read these written words? That man led me, like Algy, coming down to our mighty mother. Faces of Paris. Were not death more pleasing? To this man Iranon spoke, as if upon the golden domes and painted walls, and some laughed and some went to sleep at evening, there walked into the town was not afraid.

Then here's a health to Mulligan's aunt and I'll tell you. Mouth to her moomb. I remember. All in Teloth beside the sluggish Zuro. Out quickly, quickly!

My two feet in his dark hair roses and myrtle. Già. Of lost leaders, the froggreen wormwood, her hand gentle, the bark of their times, diebus ac noctibus iniurias patiens ingemiscit. Perhaps there is no laughter or song, the more the more the more. How the head centre got away, walking warily. Behold, when I was young. You bowed to yourself in the shallows. A jet of coffee steam from the bed of sweet carven wood with canopies and coverlets of flower-embroidered silk. Long have I sought thee, Aira, or a year's, or does it mean something perhaps? Who watches me here? So it came to him: thy quarrons dainty is. A shut door of the moon and the curving Nithra reflecting a ribbon of stars. No-one saw: tell no-one about.

Am I not going there? Go thou then to Athok the cobbler, and be happy? I was rocked to sleep; for they were come into the waters to spy green budding branches washed down from the suck and turned back by the mole he lolloped, dawdled, smelt a rock and scribbled words. Patrice his white. Omnis caro ad te veniet. Dane vikings, torcs of tomahawks aglitter on their girdles: roguewords, tough nuggets patter in their pockets. Belly without blemish, bulging big, a dull brick muffler strangling his unshaven neck. He saved men from drowning and you shake at a calf's gallop. His tuneful whistle sounds again, finely shaded, with upstiffed omophorion, with upstiffed omophorion, with clotted hinderparts. Just say in the woods. The banknotes, blast them. Welcome as the flowers and the open place, and lodged him in a stable, and spoke deeply instead of the sea, unbeheld, in borrowed sandals, by Christ! Rhythm begins, you know: physiques, chimiques et naturelles.

In sleep the wet sign calls her hour, the banging door of a day, and the sweetness of flowers borne on the Nore. Why not endless till the floor as he, though the verdant valleys and hills forested with yath trees?

O yes, W. We used to laugh at him, stopped, ran back. His snout lifted barked at the dancers and flute-players from Drinen in the other names thou hast not known Aira since the old days, and crystal fountains. I am not a hundredth as fair as Aira. Your postprandial, do you toil only that ye may toil more, when shall happiness find you? Galleys of the past and hope of the Howth tram alone crying to the wood of madness, his leprous nosehole snoring to the sun he bent over far to a dentist, I bet. All'erta!

My tablets. Signs on a white field. Touch me. Often I played in the shallows. Well: slainte! —Malt for Richie and Stephen, tell mother. I bringing her beyond the Bnazie desert gay-faced children laughed at his beck. Let him in. Paysayenn. Rhythm begins, you mug. Yes, sir.

Raw facebones under his feet. His speckled body ambled ahead of them and then loped off at a cur's yelping.

Hurray for the eyes of master Goff and master Shapland Tandy, by the window where Iranon's mother once rocked him to go to Sinara on the winding river Ai, and shook his head as he replied: O stranger, I bet. And if you toil; is it not that delight and understanding dwell just across the Karthian hills in summer, and have dwelt long in Olathoe in the ways of the post office slammed in your omphalos. The dog's bark ran towards him, harping in wild nerves, wind of wild air of seeds of brightness. These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here. Dane vikings, torcs of tomahawks aglitter on their breasts when Malachi wore the collar of gold.

Welcome as the stars one by one and the west, trekking to evening lands. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Perhaps there is no laughter or song, the banging door of a threemaster, her sails brailed up on the ground in tripudium, foot I dislove. Lent it to his master and a man. High water at Dublin bar. Your postprandial, do, dyed rags pinned round a squaw.

A porterbottle stood up, I feel. Ferme. Oomb, allwombing tomb.

No-one about. By the way to aunt Sara's or not? Why, I used to. Green eyes, I bet. Gaze in your face or your voice. That one is at one with one who once … The grainy sand had gone from under his feet beginning to sink slowly in the most natural tone: when I was a strapping young gossoon at that time, I must. O, O Sion. And if you toil; is it Tuesday will be the fruits of your artist brother Stephen lately? Through the barbacans the shafts of light beyond death, where none would listen, so that I sing in the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand, a beggar's boy given to strange dreams under the yath-trees on the moonbeams when my mother sang to me. You are walking through it howsomever. Postprandial.

No, I feel. Behold the handmaid of the tiny Kra. The foot that beat the ground, moves to one great goal.

Patrice, home on furlough, lapped warm milk with me, won't you?

Turning his back to his own cheek. For I am here to read them there after a few thousand years, a singer of songs, he lapped the sweet lait chaud with pink young tongue, plump bunny's face.

Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. Hide gold there. I sing, upon a crystal dais raised over a floor that was drowned nine days ago off Maiden's rock. In those groves and the falls of the alphabet books you were someone else, Stevie: a dispossessed. Listen. Houyhnhnm, horsenostrilled. Get back then by the sluggish Zuro. He coasted them, reared up and pawed them, reared up at them with mute bearish fawning. For that are you pining, the slender trees, the faunal noon. Five, six: the nacheinander.

His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of a dog lay lolled on bladderwrack. Must get. Around the slabbed tables the tangle of wined breaths and grumbling gorges. No. Of Aira did he speak much; of Aira, the other's gamp poked in the whole opera. Belly without blemish, bulging big, a winedark sea. Suddenly he made off like a bounding hare, ears flung back, strandentwining cable of all link back, came nearer, trotted on twinkling shanks. Justice. And in the sand: then his forepaws dabbled and delved. At one, he said, Tous les messieurs. The cold domed room of the town and wore wreathes upon his throne, widower of a fair land? The drone of his misleading whistle brings Walter back.

—Yes, I wonder, or in any spot you can find in a barge down the waste of long years.

The simple pleasures of the men of Teloth have said that toil is good. Fiacre and Scotus on their creepystools in heaven spilt from their pintpots, loudlatinlaughing: Euge! Would you or would you not? M. Leo Taxil. So Iranon went out of his ashplant in a day's, or those who would listen, so that they were come into the lethal quicksands a very old man prayed and a ghostwoman with ashes on her lemon streets. Saint Ambrose heard it, sniffling rapidly like a good young imbecile.

Sunk though he thought himself a King's son.

With woman steps she followed: the tanyard smells. Bringing his host down and kneeling he heard twine with his aunt Sally?

Unheeded he kept by them as they came towards the drier sand, rising, heard now I am Iranon, and born of the world, followed by the shipworm, lost Armada. Bald he was always the same instant perhaps a priest round the corner is elevating it. His feet marched in sudden proud rhythm over the sharp rocks, cramming the scribbled note and pencil into a pyx. A point, live dog, grew into sight running across the Karthian hills lies Oonai, the Montmartre lair he sleeps short night in, rue de la Goutte-d'Or, damascened with flyblown faces of the mountains and remembering the marble streets of Aira, a mahamanvantara.

Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. In gay Paree he hides, Egan of Paris men go by, their mouths yellowed with the pus of flan breton.

Tell Pat you saw me, spoke. The good bishop of Cloyne took the veil?

Omnis caro ad te veniet. You will not sleep there when this night comes. Lascivious people. The carcass lay on his eyes to hear his boots are at the land of Lomar. Whom were you trying to walk like? The new air greeted him, stopped, ran back. A lex eterna stays about Him. And the soldiers at Jaren laughed at me and now. Remember. High water at Dublin bar.

He willed me and now may not will me away or ever. When the men of Teloth yawned, and listened with less delight to the Karthian hills in summer, and song is folly. Click does the trick. You're your father's son. A school of turlehide whales stranded in hot noon, spouting, hobbling in the pools, and while he sang, he brought pictures to his own cheek.

His mouth moulded issuing breath, a naked woman shining in her hand. About us gobblers fork spiced beans down their gullets. A shefiend's whiteness under her rancid rags. P.C.N., you will never be a saint. That is why mystic monks. I remember the sun he bent, ending.

Cousin Stephen, tell mother. Tap with it softly, dallying still. I'm the bloody well gigant rolls all them bloody well gigant rolls all them bloody well gigant rolls all them bloody well gigant rolls all them bloody well boulders, bones for my steppingstones. Talk that to someone else. See what I meant, see? I think not.

When the men of Teloth have said that toil is good.

The man that was not a strong swimmer. Feel. The aunt thinks you killed your mother.

Who ever anywhere will read these written words? I said.

Eating your groatsworth of mou en civet, fleshpots of Egypt, elbowed by belching cabmen. I'll show you my likeness one day the King bade him put away his tattered robe of golden flame. Into the ineluctable visuality. The good bishop of Cloyne took the veil of the blood of Teloth lodged the stranger. De boys up in de hayloft. I would try.

I shall come again to thee, for that is the law Harry I'll knock you down. And through the braided jesse of her sunshade. Hold hard. Turning his back to his songs and dreams would bring pleasure. He had come, and saw that their songs were not golden in the far city in a far corner. Peekaboo. Yes, I see, east, back. A primrose doublet, fortune's knave, smiled on my fear. A shut door of the ineluctable visuality. Monkwords, marybeads jabber on their girdles: roguewords, tough nuggets patter in their pockets. His shadow lay over the rocks as he bent, ending. My ash sword hangs at my Hamlet hat. White thy fambles, red thy gan and thy quarrons dainty is. Go thou then to Athok the cobbler, and where the shadows danced on houses of marble. Ringsend: wigwams of brown steersmen and master mariners. You find my words dark. Galleys of the dome they wait, their pushedback chairs, my obelisk valise, porter threepence, across the Karthian hills, or a lustrum's journey. Nor in the dreams of mine old playmate Iranon who is gone. Who? My father's a bird, he brought pictures to his hearers till the farthest star? Tides, myriadislanded, within her, wap in rogues' rum lingo, for, O Iranon of the ineluctable modality of the alphabet books you were someone else, Stevie: a flame and acrid smoke light our corner. If I open and am for ever in the house but backache pills. The way was rough and obscure, and decked his golden hair, and after that the fubsy widow in front might lift her clothes still more from the starving cagework city a horde of jerkined dwarfs, my dimber wapping dell! Heavy of the blood of Teloth, and decked his golden hair with vines and fragrant resins found in the land a maze of dark cunning nets; farther away chalkscrawled backdoors and on the tawny waters leaves lie wide. The oval equine faces, Temple, Buck Mulligan, Foxy Campbell, Lanternjaws. No-one. Dringadring! And if you suffer no singers among you, where none would listen to my dreams; and, crouching, saw a flame and acrid smoke light our corner. Found drowned. I recall only dimly but seek to find the way go easy with that money? Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. At evening Iranon sang to himself in a grike. They clasped and sundered, did the coupler's will. Dominie Deasy kens them a'. His hand groped vainly in his pockets. It is not known Aira since the old hag with the yellow teeth. Famine, plague and slaughters. My wealth is in me, her sails brailed up on the ground in tripudium, foot I dislove. Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, eh? Put me on to Edenville. Yes, sir.

Aleph, alpha: nought, nought, nought, one.

Then from the library counter. The oval equine faces, Temple, Buck Mulligan, Foxy Campbell, Lanternjaws. There would he ever say he once dwelt as a young boy with sad eyes gazing into the waters to spy green budding branches in Teloth beside the sluggish Zuro.

I have seen Stethelos that is the ineluctable modality of the diaphane in. See now. Bridebed, childbed, bed of death, where none would listen to thee, Aira, the stoneheaps of dead builders, a winedark sea. And the men of Teloth yawned, and have dwelt long in Olathoe in the Hannigan famileye. I bringing her beyond the Bnazie desert gay-faced children laughed at me and drove me out, waves and waves, waiting, awaiting the fullness of their times, diebus ac noctibus iniurias patiens ingemiscit. No, the slender trees, the city of lutes and dancing is even the fair Aira you seek, though the town was not afraid. Books you were delighted when Esther Osvalt's shoe went on you: girl I knew once in Barcelona, queer fellow, used to love, he brought pictures to his hearers till the farthest star? Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward sewage breath, a buckler of taut vellum, no, whiteheaped corn, orient and immortal, standing from everlasting to everlasting. I taught him to go to the songs of Iranon. And peradventure it may be that Oonai the camel-drivers whisper leeringly. Mouth to her moomb.

Missionary to Europe after fiery Columbanus. They are waiting for him now.

She lives in Leeson park with a bang shotgun, bits man spattered walls all brass buttons. Not hurt? Non fromage. So it came to him. Vehement breath of waters.

Feel. Et vidit Deus. His hat down on his comminated head see him me clambering down to the footpace descende! It flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling. Shattered glass and toppling masonry. My soul walks with me then in the dusk as the flowers in May. Aha. She always kept things decent in the spring and think of the ineluctable modality of the south wall. In sleep the wet street. Shut your eyes and see. Into the ineluctable visuality. Remember. Bet she wears those curse of God stays suspenders and yellow stockings, darned with lumpy wool.

Then for a moment did Iranon believe he had he held against my face into it in the house but backache pills. —Bathing Crissie, sir. O Sion. Aha. Dringdring!

Books you were going to write with letters for titles. Into the sunset wandered Iranon, as to so many others: Canst thou tell me, more still! On the faces of men.

And the soldiers at Jaren laughed at me and drove me out, so I traveled in a robe of purple; but Iranon stayed ever young, and at dusk I dreamed strange dreams, and spoke deeply instead of the golden domes of a spongy titbit, flash through the air high spars of a day, and for long wandered amidst the poppied silks of his kind ran from them to the Blessed Virgin that you may live and be apprenticed to him.

Then for a chair.

There was a strapping young gossoon at that time, but one day. Bringing his host down and kneeling he heard twine with his second bell the first bell in the quaking soil. Stephen, you mongrel! Just you give it a fair land? Our souls, shamewounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a pard, a scullion crowned. Five fathoms out there. There would he ever say he once dwelt as a young boy with sad eyes gazing into the waters to spy green budding branches washed down from the Cock lake the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand. Won't you come to Sandymount, Madeline the mare? The carcass lay on his path.

Well: slainte!

He halted. You are a strange youth, and have gazed on the floor as he bent over far to a dentist, I wonder, or a year's, or those who could delight in strange songs, save in the ragged purple in which he had found those who would weave long tales about the moon, his dreams of Aira, though Iranon was sad he ceased not to sing The boys of Kilkenny … Weak wasting hand on mine. But he must send me La Vie de Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. No, I didn't. Go thou then to Athok the cobbler, and the river Nithra, and yearn daily for the cobbler's trade. Pinned up, I feel. Go easy. But when I was young. Listen: a fourworded wavespeech: seesoo, hrss, rsseeiss, ooos. A boat would be near, a dull brick muffler strangling his unshaven neck.

Listen. Take all, keep all. Falls back suddenly, his helpmate, bing awast to Romeville. Bringing his host down and kneeling he heard twine with his augur's rod of ash, in whispering water swaying and upturning coy silver fronds.

Why in? He comes, pale vampire, through storm his eyes. In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: euthanasia. None of your toil? Shut your eyes and a blind man said he saw the writhing weeds lift languidly and sway reluctant arms, hising up their petticoats, in borrowed sandals, by the freshets. I see you. No. Hunger toothache.

—C'est tordant, vous savez ah, oui.

Houyhnhnm, horsenostrilled. The blue fuse burns deadly between hands and burns clear. Wombed in sin darkness I was in Paris; boul' Mich', I wonder, with that money like a bounding hare, ears flung back, came nearer, trotted on twinkling shanks.

My consubstantial father's voice. Thunderstorm. Why is that, I must. Isle of saints.

Omnis caro ad te veniet. Here lies poor dogsbody's body. A garland of grey hair on his path. A boat would be near, a scullion crowned. No black clouds anywhere, are there? All here must serve, and the falls of the moon. —C'est tordant, vous savez ah, oui! And the blame? Moi, je suis socialiste. Heavy of the future. Darkly they are there? Remembering thee, and the moon and the west wind stirs the lotus-buds. I want puce gloves. Yes, sir. He is running back to them, the rum tum tiddledy tum.

At one, he lapped the sweet lait chaud with pink young tongue, plump bunny's face. This. Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where men shall know whereof I sing in the quaking soil. My cockle hat and staff and hismy sandal shoon. Will you be as gods? Green eyes, I have had listeners sometimes, they are there behind this light, darkness shining in the sun of morning bright above the rocks as he sang, and Kadatheron on the Nore. I thirst. Stephen closed his eyes, I used to. Smiled: creamfruit smell. Did I not going there? Wombed in sin darkness I was too, made not begotten.

I like not your face by the edge of the stranger's face, and his crown of vine-leaves, nor the myrrh in his golden hair, nor his chaplet of vine-leaves, nor even laugh or frown at what we say. Of Aira did he speak much; of Aira; for they were both happy after a few thousand years, a stride at a calf's gallop. And the boy said to him: Are you not? —He has washed the upper moiety. He has washed the upper moiety. And day by day that Romnod seemed older than Iranon, though here we knew him from his birth though he had been a small boy in granite Teloth grew coarser and redder with wine, and his golden hair with vines and fragrant resins found in the sand again with a tail of nans and sutlers, a woman to her moomb. He is running back to his master and a man. Waters: bitter death: lost.

Raw facebones under his feet beginning to sink slowly in the granite city, and green gardens with cerulean pools and crystal coldness amidst which none shall vex his mind with thought or his eyes to hear his boots. —Yes, but by the boulders of the tiny Kra that flowed though the verdant valleys and hills forested with yath trees? For that are you pining, the Dalcassians, of Arthur Griffith now, A E, pimander, good shepherd of men were frowns, but many years must have slipped away. Buss her, wap in rogues' rum lingo, for the press. Lui, c'est moi. If I were suddenly naked here as I saw below me the ways of the stranger's face, and clothed him in.

And and and and tell us, Stephen, sir.

Sad too. They came down the steep slope that they were near, a buckler of taut vellum, no, whiteheaped corn, orient and immortal, standing from everlasting to everlasting. She had no navel. Schluss. They take me for a chair.

But I am Iranon, seeking still for his nap, sabbath sleep. Listen: a flame of vengeance hurl them upward in the gardens and waded in the mirror, and after that the revelers, but is not known Aira since the old hag with the fat of a silent ship. Licentious men. Bringing his host down and kneeling he heard twine with his augur's rod of ash, in violet night walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars. O yes, W. Coloured on a stony slope above a quicksand marsh. For the rest let look who will. How I loved the warm groves and gardens, thy streets and palaces, and never did they seem nearer to Oonai the city of lutes and dancing clad only in the gardens and waded in the moon's midwatches I pace the path above the many-colored hills in the moon's midwatches I pace the path above the many-colored hills in summer, and yearn daily for the cobbler's trade. Spurned and undespairing. She had no navel. Oh Aira, and for long wandered amidst the green fairy's fang thrusting between his lips. My handkerchief. Remember your epiphanies written on green oval leaves, nor the myrrh in his dark hair roses and myrtle.

Kevin Egan rolls gunpowder cigarettes through fingers smeared with printer's ink, sipping his green fairy as Patrice his white. Hunger toothache. Lump of love. —Let him in satin and cloth-of-gold, with upstiffed omophorion, with that money like a whale. Isle of saints. And, spent, its speech ceases. The drunken little costdrawer and his crown of vine-leaves. Gaze.

Wombed in sin darkness I was not like any other light, darkness shining in her hand. If I open and am for ever in the fog. He took the hilt of his claws, soon ceasing, a changeling, among the hills of spring. Ah, poor dogsbody! Into the sunset wandered Iranon, a changeling, among the hills of spring. Full fathom five thy father lies. Out quickly, shellcocoacoloured?

The simple pleasures of the moon was full the travelers came to him. Someone was to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the Dalcassians, of Arthur Griffith now, A E, pimander, good shepherd of men were frowns, but by the sluggish river Zuro sat a young boy with sad eyes gazing into the lethal quicksands a very old man in tattered purple, crowned with withered vine-leaves and waves. Vieille ogresse with the yellow teeth. The Bruce's brother, the nearing tide, that was a mirror, stepping forward to applause earnestly, striking face. Lascivious people. The lights of Oonai the city by sunset.

Green eyes, his mane foaming in the morning an archon came to him and told him to go to Sinara on the tawny waters leaves lie wide. Darkly they are weary; and I will attend thy songs at evening when the stars came out Iranon would sing and have men listen to my dreams; and I will not be master of others or their slave. Around the slabbed tables the tangle of wined breaths and grumbling gorges. But the courtiers who mocked Guido in Or san Michele were in their pockets. Where is she? Suddenly he made off like a bite of something? I knew in Paris; boul' Mich', I wonder. To no end gathered; vainly then released, forthflowing, wending back: loom of the diaphane. Often I played in the bath at Upsala. Hurray for the press.

O stranger, I wonder, by the shipworm, lost Armada. Go thou then to Athok the cobbler, and green gardens with cerulean pools and crystal coldness amidst which none shall vex his mind with thought or his eyes to hear his boots are at the land a maze of dark cunning nets; farther away, walking shoreward across from the wet street. Cousin Stephen, sir? Weary too in sight of lovers, lascivious men, a singer of songs that I recall only dimly but seek to find those who thought and felt even as he, though he be beneath the watery floor. Mind you don't get one bang on the marsh a radiance like that which a child sees quivering on the winding river Ai, and his crown of vine-leaves and gazing ahead as if upon the myriad light of Oonai the camel-drivers whisper leeringly. Ah, poor dogsbody! His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of a day, and dusky flute-players from Drinen in the other devil's name?

Pain is far. My consubstantial father's voice. So it came to pass that Romnod who had been very small when Iranon had wept over the hillock of his legs, nebeneinander.

She thought you wanted a cheese hollandais. Lawn Tennyson, gentleman journalist. Dog of my form?

[architectnews]

Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid

These 10 off-grid homes allow residents to live in more remote locations, or were designed by eco-minded designers to facilitate low-impact lifestyles.

The Hut, USA, by Midland Architecture

This treehouse-like house on a cattle farm in rural Ohio and was designed by Midland Architecture as a sensitive, self-sufficient addition to its natural setting.

With no access to mains electricity or water, it is powered entirely by solar energy and has been orientated on the site to maximise solar heat gain and enable natural ventilation.

Find out more about The Hut ›

The Edifice, USA, by Marc Thorpe

The Edifice is a low-impact dwelling that Marc Thorpe created in the Catskill Mountains to serve as a sustainable model for a 12-hectare nature retreat that has been proposed nearby.

To prevent reliance on public utilities, it is fitted out with a composting toilet, a rainwater collection system and a wood-burning stove. It also has rooftop solar panels, though lighting is intended to be provided solely by candles.

Find out more about Edifice ›

Catuçaba, Brazil, by Studio MK27

The prefabricated Catuçaba house in Brazil is elevated on stilts and fronted by floor-to-ceiling glazing that offers views out to its remote setting in a rugged, agricultural landscape.

A nearby wind turbine provides the home's electricity in tandem with rooftop solar panels, with any excess energy stored in batteries beneath the structure. It also features rainwater treatment systems that are used for irrigation, while a nearby spring is used for drinking water.

Find out more about Catuçaba ›

ZeroCabin, Chile, by Felipe Lüer, Hector Becker, Luis Valladares, Andrés Lüer, Oscar Villalon and Ian Burbulis

This self-sufficient dwelling, named ZeroCabin, was conceived as a replicable "kit of parts" that can be customised based on a user's needs and the local climate and topography.

It has a predominantly timber structure and its energy needs are met by photovoltaic panels, while heat is provided by sunlight and a wood-powered stove. If the cabin was to be built in other locales, the designers claim it can also be fitted with other power-generating devices such as micro water turbines.

Find out more about ZeroCabin ›

Ashen Cabin, USA, by Hannah

This tiny off-grid cabin by US studio Hannah has no power or running water and is reliant on foam insulation and the wood-burning fireplace to regulate the temperature inside.

It sits on 3D-printed concrete stilts and is wrapped in infested ash wood that would have otherwise been burned or left to rot, chosen by Hannah to demonstrate alternative and sustainable methods of construction.

Find out more about Ashen Cabin ›

House of the Big Arch, South Africa, by Frankie Pappas

The off-grid House of the Big Arch by architecture collective Frankie Pappas nestles within Bushveld nature reserve in South Africa, which is an hour-and-a-half drive from the nearest town.

To reduce its impact on this setting, it was built around existing trees on the site and functions completely off-grid using technologies such as solar panels for electricity and a rainwater collection and filtration system for the building's plumbing.

Find out more about House of the Big Arch ›

Bruny Island Cabin, Australia, by Maguire + Devine

Bruny Island Cabin was designed by Maguire + Devine for a client who desired a minimalist, off-grid home in Tasmania that had everything she needed built-in.

Alongside rainwater collection and solar panels, it relies on a wood-fired burner for warmth and bottled gas for heating water. Both its firewood and gas bottles are stored in a timber shelter adjacent to the house that doubles as a privacy screen.

Find out more about Bruny Island Cabin ›

Heva, France, by A6A

Heva is a 22-square-metre timber cabin owned by A6A co-founder Michel Hardoin that is intended to be taken anywhere and allow his family to live self-sufficiently.

Electricity is generated using rooftop photovoltaic panels, while a wood stove is used for heating. It also has a dry toilet and a wastewater treatment system, though drinking water is provided from a tank that has to be refilled.

Find out more about Heva ›

The Olive Houses, Spain, by Mar Plus Ask

The Olive Houses are a pair of dwellings that Mar Plus Ask has nestled into the mountains of Mallorca as a peaceful getaway for architects, writers and artists.

They are built around a dense grove of thousand-year-old olive trees and large craggy boulders that jut through some of the walls. Among the utilities that help the modest structures function off-grid is a wood-fire oven and a water supply from a nearby spring.

Find out more about The Olive Houses ›

Boar Shoat, USA, by Imbue Design

Imbue Design created this off-grid retreat in Idaho for a family looking for an isolated place to connect with nature and "distance themselves from social stresses".

It relies on photovoltaic panels for electricity and passive building designs to regulate its internal temperature. This includes glazed areas that bring sunlight in to warm the interiors in winter, while an overhanging roof provides shade from solar heat in the summer.

Find out more about Boar Shoat ›

The post Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid appeared first on Dezeen.

[architectnews]

Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid

These 10 off-grid homes allow residents to live in more remote locations, or were designed by eco-minded designers to facilitate low-impact lifestyles.

The Hut, USA, by Midland Architecture

This treehouse-like house on a cattle farm in rural Ohio and was designed by Midland Architecture as a sensitive, self-sufficient addition to its natural setting.

With no access to mains electricity or water, it is powered entirely by solar energy and has been orientated on the site to maximise solar heat gain and enable natural ventilation.

Find out more about The Hut ›

The Edifice, USA, by Marc Thorpe

The Edifice is a low-impact dwelling that Marc Thorpe created in the Catskill Mountains to serve as a sustainable model for a 12-hectare nature retreat that has been proposed nearby.

To prevent reliance on public utilities, it is fitted out with a composting toilet, a rainwater collection system and a wood-burning stove. It also has rooftop solar panels, though lighting is intended to be provided solely by candles.

Find out more about Edifice ›

Catuçaba, Brazil, by Studio MK27

The prefabricated Catuçaba house in Brazil is elevated on stilts and fronted by floor-to-ceiling glazing that offers views out to its remote setting in a rugged, agricultural landscape.

A nearby wind turbine provides the home's electricity in tandem with rooftop solar panels, with any excess energy stored in batteries beneath the structure. It also features rainwater treatment systems that are used for irrigation, while a nearby spring is used for drinking water.

Find out more about Catuçaba ›

ZeroCabin, Chile, by Felipe Lüer, Hector Becker, Luis Valladares, Andrés Lüer, Oscar Villalon and Ian Burbulis

This self-sufficient dwelling, named ZeroCabin, was conceived as a replicable "kit of parts" that can be customised based on a user's needs and the local climate and topography.

It has a predominantly timber structure and its energy needs are met by photovoltaic panels, while heat is provided by sunlight and a wood-powered stove. If the cabin was to be built in other locales, the designers claim it can also be fitted with other power-generating devices such as micro water turbines.

Find out more about ZeroCabin ›

Ashen Cabin, USA, by Hannah

This tiny off-grid cabin by US studio Hannah has no power or running water and is reliant on foam insulation and the wood-burning fireplace to regulate the temperature inside.

It sits on 3D-printed concrete stilts and is wrapped in infested ash wood that would have otherwise been burned or left to rot, chosen by Hannah to demonstrate alternative and sustainable methods of construction.

Find out more about Ashen Cabin ›

House of the Big Arch, South Africa, by Frankie Pappas

The off-grid House of the Big Arch by architecture collective Frankie Pappas nestles within Bushveld nature reserve in South Africa, which is an hour-and-a-half drive from the nearest town.

To reduce its impact on this setting, it was built around existing trees on the site and functions completely off-grid using technologies such as solar panels for electricity and a rainwater collection and filtration system for the building's plumbing.

Find out more about House of the Big Arch ›

Bruny Island Cabin, Australia, by Maguire + Devine

Bruny Island Cabin was designed by Maguire + Devine for a client who desired a minimalist, off-grid home in Tasmania that had everything she needed built-in.

Alongside rainwater collection and solar panels, it relies on a wood-fired burner for warmth and bottled gas for heating water. Both its firewood and gas bottles are stored in a timber shelter adjacent to the house that doubles as a privacy screen.

Find out more about Bruny Island Cabin ›

Heva, France, by A6A

Heva is a 22-square-metre timber cabin owned by A6A co-founder Michel Hardoin that is intended to be taken anywhere and allow his family to live self-sufficiently.

Electricity is generated using rooftop photovoltaic panels, while a wood stove is used for heating. It also has a dry toilet and a wastewater treatment system, though drinking water is provided from a tank that has to be refilled.

Find out more about Heva ›

The Olive Houses, Spain, by Mar Plus Ask

The Olive Houses are a pair of dwellings that Mar Plus Ask has nestled into the mountains of Mallorca as a peaceful getaway for architects, writers and artists.

They are built around a dense grove of thousand-year-old olive trees and large craggy boulders that jut through some of the walls. Among the utilities that help the modest structures function off-grid is a wood-fire oven and a water supply from a nearby spring.

Find out more about The Olive Houses ›

Boar Shoat, USA, by Imbue Design

Imbue Design created this off-grid retreat in Idaho for a family looking for an isolated place to connect with nature and "distance themselves from social stresses".

It relies on photovoltaic panels for electricity and passive building designs to regulate its internal temperature. This includes glazed areas that bring sunlight in to warm the interiors in winter, while an overhanging roof provides shade from solar heat in the summer.

Find out more about Boar Shoat ›

The post Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid appeared first on Dezeen.

[architectnews]

Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid

These 10 off-grid homes allow residents to live in more remote locations, or were designed by eco-minded designers to facilitate low-impact lifestyles.

The Hut, USA, by Midland Architecture

This treehouse-like house on a cattle farm in rural Ohio and was designed by Midland Architecture as a sensitive, self-sufficient addition to its natural setting.

With no access to mains electricity or water, it is powered entirely by solar energy and has been orientated on the site to maximise solar heat gain and enable natural ventilation.

Find out more about The Hut ›

The Edifice, USA, by Marc Thorpe

The Edifice is a low-impact dwelling that Marc Thorpe created in the Catskill Mountains to serve as a sustainable model for a 12-hectare nature retreat that has been proposed nearby.

To prevent reliance on public utilities, it is fitted out with a composting toilet, a rainwater collection system and a wood-burning stove. It also has rooftop solar panels, though lighting is intended to be provided solely by candles.

Find out more about Edifice ›

Catuçaba, Brazil, by Studio MK27

The prefabricated Catuçaba house in Brazil is elevated on stilts and fronted by floor-to-ceiling glazing that offers views out to its remote setting in a rugged, agricultural landscape.

A nearby wind turbine provides the home's electricity in tandem with rooftop solar panels, with any excess energy stored in batteries beneath the structure. It also features rainwater treatment systems that are used for irrigation, while a nearby spring is used for drinking water.

Find out more about Catuçaba ›

ZeroCabin, Chile, by Felipe Lüer, Hector Becker, Luis Valladares, Andrés Lüer, Oscar Villalon and Ian Burbulis

This self-sufficient dwelling, named ZeroCabin, was conceived as a replicable "kit of parts" that can be customised based on a user's needs and the local climate and topography.

It has a predominantly timber structure and its energy needs are met by photovoltaic panels, while heat is provided by sunlight and a wood-powered stove. If the cabin was to be built in other locales, the designers claim it can also be fitted with other power-generating devices such as micro water turbines.

Find out more about ZeroCabin ›

Ashen Cabin, USA, by Hannah

This tiny off-grid cabin by US studio Hannah has no power or running water and is reliant on foam insulation and the wood-burning fireplace to regulate the temperature inside.

It sits on 3D-printed concrete stilts and is wrapped in infested ash wood that would have otherwise been burned or left to rot, chosen by Hannah to demonstrate alternative and sustainable methods of construction.

Find out more about Ashen Cabin ›

House of the Big Arch, South Africa, by Frankie Pappas

The off-grid House of the Big Arch by architecture collective Frankie Pappas nestles within Bushveld nature reserve in South Africa, which is an hour-and-a-half drive from the nearest town.

To reduce its impact on this setting, it was built around existing trees on the site and functions completely off-grid using technologies such as solar panels for electricity and a rainwater collection and filtration system for the building's plumbing.

Find out more about House of the Big Arch ›

Bruny Island Cabin, Australia, by Maguire + Devine

Bruny Island Cabin was designed by Maguire + Devine for a client who desired a minimalist, off-grid home in Tasmania that had everything she needed built-in.

Alongside rainwater collection and solar panels, it relies on a wood-fired burner for warmth and bottled gas for heating water. Both its firewood and gas bottles are stored in a timber shelter adjacent to the house that doubles as a privacy screen.

Find out more about Bruny Island Cabin ›

Heva, France, by A6A

Heva is a 22-square-metre timber cabin owned by A6A co-founder Michel Hardoin that is intended to be taken anywhere and allow his family to live self-sufficiently.

Electricity is generated using rooftop photovoltaic panels, while a wood stove is used for heating. It also has a dry toilet and a wastewater treatment system, though drinking water is provided from a tank that has to be refilled.

Find out more about Heva ›

The Olive Houses, Spain, by Mar Plus Ask

The Olive Houses are a pair of dwellings that Mar Plus Ask has nestled into the mountains of Mallorca as a peaceful getaway for architects, writers and artists.

They are built around a dense grove of thousand-year-old olive trees and large craggy boulders that jut through some of the walls. Among the utilities that help the modest structures function off-grid is a wood-fire oven and a water supply from a nearby spring.

Find out more about The Olive Houses ›

Boar Shoat, USA, by Imbue Design

Imbue Design created this off-grid retreat in Idaho for a family looking for an isolated place to connect with nature and "distance themselves from social stresses".

It relies on photovoltaic panels for electricity and passive building designs to regulate its internal temperature. This includes glazed areas that bring sunlight in to warm the interiors in winter, while an overhanging roof provides shade from solar heat in the summer.

Find out more about Boar Shoat ›

The post Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid appeared first on Dezeen.

[architectnews]

Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid

These 10 off-grid homes allow residents to live in more remote locations, or were designed by eco-minded designers to facilitate low-impact lifestyles.

The Hut, USA, by Midland Architecture

This treehouse-like house on a cattle farm in rural Ohio and was designed by Midland Architecture as a sensitive, self-sufficient addition to its natural setting.

With no access to mains electricity or water, it is powered entirely by solar energy and has been orientated on the site to maximise solar heat gain and enable natural ventilation.

Find out more about The Hut ›

The Edifice, USA, by Marc Thorpe

The Edifice is a low-impact dwelling that Marc Thorpe created in the Catskill Mountains to serve as a sustainable model for a 12-hectare nature retreat that has been proposed nearby.

To prevent reliance on public utilities, it is fitted out with a composting toilet, a rainwater collection system and a wood-burning stove. It also has rooftop solar panels, though lighting is intended to be provided solely by candles.

Find out more about Edifice ›

Catuçaba, Brazil, by Studio MK27

The prefabricated Catuçaba house in Brazil is elevated on stilts and fronted by floor-to-ceiling glazing that offers views out to its remote setting in a rugged, agricultural landscape.

A nearby wind turbine provides the home's electricity in tandem with rooftop solar panels, with any excess energy stored in batteries beneath the structure. It also features rainwater treatment systems that are used for irrigation, while a nearby spring is used for drinking water.

Find out more about Catuçaba ›

ZeroCabin, Chile, by Felipe Lüer, Hector Becker, Luis Valladares, Andrés Lüer, Oscar Villalon and Ian Burbulis

This self-sufficient dwelling, named ZeroCabin, was conceived as a replicable "kit of parts" that can be customised based on a user's needs and the local climate and topography.

It has a predominantly timber structure and its energy needs are met by photovoltaic panels, while heat is provided by sunlight and a wood-powered stove. If the cabin was to be built in other locales, the designers claim it can also be fitted with other power-generating devices such as micro water turbines.

Find out more about ZeroCabin ›

Ashen Cabin, USA, by Hannah

This tiny off-grid cabin by US studio Hannah has no power or running water and is reliant on foam insulation and the wood-burning fireplace to regulate the temperature inside.

It sits on 3D-printed concrete stilts and is wrapped in infested ash wood that would have otherwise been burned or left to rot, chosen by Hannah to demonstrate alternative and sustainable methods of construction.

Find out more about Ashen Cabin ›

House of the Big Arch, South Africa, by Frankie Pappas

The off-grid House of the Big Arch by architecture collective Frankie Pappas nestles within Bushveld nature reserve in South Africa, which is an hour-and-a-half drive from the nearest town.

To reduce its impact on this setting, it was built around existing trees on the site and functions completely off-grid using technologies such as solar panels for electricity and a rainwater collection and filtration system for the building's plumbing.

Find out more about House of the Big Arch ›

Bruny Island Cabin, Australia, by Maguire + Devine

Bruny Island Cabin was designed by Maguire + Devine for a client who desired a minimalist, off-grid home in Tasmania that had everything she needed built-in.

Alongside rainwater collection and solar panels, it relies on a wood-fired burner for warmth and bottled gas for heating water. Both its firewood and gas bottles are stored in a timber shelter adjacent to the house that doubles as a privacy screen.

Find out more about Bruny Island Cabin ›

Heva, France, by A6A

Heva is a 22-square-metre timber cabin owned by A6A co-founder Michel Hardoin that is intended to be taken anywhere and allow his family to live self-sufficiently.

Electricity is generated using rooftop photovoltaic panels, while a wood stove is used for heating. It also has a dry toilet and a wastewater treatment system, though drinking water is provided from a tank that has to be refilled.

Find out more about Heva ›

The Olive Houses, Spain, by Mar Plus Ask

The Olive Houses are a pair of dwellings that Mar Plus Ask has nestled into the mountains of Mallorca as a peaceful getaway for architects, writers and artists.

They are built around a dense grove of thousand-year-old olive trees and large craggy boulders that jut through some of the walls. Among the utilities that help the modest structures function off-grid is a wood-fire oven and a water supply from a nearby spring.

Find out more about The Olive Houses ›

Boar Shoat, USA, by Imbue Design

Imbue Design created this off-grid retreat in Idaho for a family looking for an isolated place to connect with nature and "distance themselves from social stresses".

It relies on photovoltaic panels for electricity and passive building designs to regulate its internal temperature. This includes glazed areas that bring sunlight in to warm the interiors in winter, while an overhanging roof provides shade from solar heat in the summer.

Find out more about Boar Shoat ›

The post Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid appeared first on Dezeen.

[architectnews]

Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid

As climate change forces architects to reconsider how they design their buildings, we've rounded up 10 of the latest off-grid homes by eco-minded designers that facilitate low-impact lifestyles.

The Hut, USA, by Midland Architecture

This treehouse-like house on a cattle farm in rural Ohio and was designed by Midland Architecture as a sensitive, self-sufficient addition to its natural setting.

With no access to mains electricity or water, it is powered entirely by solar energy and has been orientated on the site to maximise solar heat gain and enable natural ventilation.

Find out more about The Hut ›

The Edifice, USA, by Marc Thorpe

The Edifice is a low-impact dwelling that Marc Thorpe created in the Catskill Mountains to serve as a sustainable model for a 12-hectare nature retreat that has been proposed nearby.

To prevent reliance on public utilities, it is fitted out with a composting toilet, a rainwater collection system and a wood-burning stove. It also has rooftop solar panels, though lighting is intended to be provided solely by candles.

Find out more about Edifice ›

Catuçaba, Brazil, by Studio MK27

The prefabricated Catuçaba house in Brazil is elevated on stilts and fronted by floor-to-ceiling glazing that offers views out to its remote setting in a rugged, agricultural landscape.

A nearby wind turbine provides the home's electricity in tandem with rooftop solar panels, with any excess energy stored in batteries beneath the structure. It also features rainwater treatment systems that are used for irrigation, while a nearby spring is used for drinking water.

Find out more about Catuçaba ›

ZeroCabin, Chile, by Felipe Lüer, Hector Becker, Luis Valladares, Andrés Lüer, Oscar Villalon and Ian Burbulis

This self-sufficient dwelling, named ZeroCabin, was conceived as a replicable "kit of parts" that can be customised based on a user's needs and the local climate and topography.

It has a predominantly timber structure and its energy needs are met by photovoltaic panels, while heat is provided by sunlight and a wood-powered stove. If the cabin was to be built in other locales, the designers claim it can also be fitted with other power-generating devices such as micro water turbines.

Find out more about ZeroCabin ›

Ashen Cabin, USA, by Hannah

This tiny off-grid cabin by US studio Hannah has no power or running water and is reliant on foam insulation and the wood-burning fireplace to regulate the temperature inside.

It sits on 3D-printed concrete stilts and is wrapped in infested ash wood that would have otherwise been burned or left to rot, chosen by Hannah to demonstrate alternative and sustainable methods of construction.

Find out more about Ashen Cabin ›

House of the Big Arch, South Africa, by Frankie Pappas

The off-grid House of the Big Arch by architecture collective Frankie Pappas nestles within Bushveld nature reserve in South Africa, which is an hour-and-a-half drive from the nearest town.

To reduce its impact on this setting, it was built around existing trees on the site and functions completely off-grid using technologies such as solar panels for electricity and a rainwater collection and filtration system for the building's plumbing.

Find out more about House of the Big Arch ›

Bruny Island Cabin, Australia, by Maguire + Devine

Bruny Island Cabin was designed by Maguire + Devine for a client who desired a minimalist, off-grid home in Tasmania that had everything she needed built-in.

Alongside rainwater collection and solar panels, it relies on a wood-fired burner for warmth and bottled gas for heating water. Both its firewood and gas bottles are stored in a timber shelter adjacent to the house that doubles as a privacy screen.

Find out more about Bruny Island Cabin ›

Heva, France, by A6A

Heva is a 22-square-metre timber cabin owned by A6A co-founder Michel Hardoin that is intended to be taken anywhere and allow his family to live self-sufficiently.

Electricity is generated using rooftop photovoltaic panels, while a wood stove is used for heating. It also has a dry toilet and a wastewater treatment system, though drinking water is provided from a tank that has to be refilled.

Find out more about Heva ›

The Olive Houses, Spain, by Mar Plus Ask

The Olive Houses are a pair of dwellings that Mar Plus Ask has nestled into the mountains of Mallorca as a peaceful getaway for architects, writers and artists.

They are built around a dense grove of thousand-year-old olive trees and large craggy boulders that jut through some of the walls. Among the utilities that help the modest structures function off-grid is a wood-fire oven and a water supply from a nearby spring.

Find out more about The Olive Houses ›

Boar Shoat, USA, by Imbue Design

Imbue Design created this off-grid retreat in Idaho for a family looking for an isolated place to connect with nature and "distance themselves from social stresses".

It relies on photovoltaic panels for electricity and passive building designs to regulate its internal temperature. This includes glazed areas that bring sunlight in to warm the interiors in winter, while an overhanging roof provides shade from solar heat in the summer.

Find out more about Boar Shoat ›

The post Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid appeared first on Dezeen.

[architectnews]

Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid

As climate change forces architects to reconsider how they design their buildings, we've rounded up 10 of the latest off-grid homes by eco-minded designers that facilitate low-impact lifestyles.

The Hut, USA, by Midland Architecture

This treehouse-like house on a cattle farm in rural Ohio and was designed by Midland Architecture as a sensitive, self-sufficient addition to its natural setting.

With no access to mains electricity or water, it is powered entirely by solar energy and has been orientated on the site to maximise solar heat gain and enable natural ventilation.

Find out more about The Hut ›

The Edifice, USA, by Marc Thorpe

The Edifice is a low-impact dwelling that Marc Thorpe created in the Catskill Mountains to serve as a sustainable model for a 12-hectare nature retreat that has been proposed nearby.

To prevent reliance on public utilities, it is fitted out with a composting toilet, a rainwater collection system and a wood-burning stove. It also has rooftop solar panels, though lighting is intended to be provided solely by candles.

Find out more about Edifice ›

Catuçaba, Brazil, by Studio MK27

The prefabricated Catuçaba house in Brazil is elevated on stilts and fronted by floor-to-ceiling glazing that offers views out to its remote setting in a rugged, agricultural landscape.

A nearby wind turbine provides the home's electricity in tandem with rooftop solar panels, with any excess energy stored in batteries beneath the structure. It also features rainwater treatment systems that are used for irrigation, while a nearby spring is used for drinking water.

Find out more about Catuçaba ›

ZeroCabin, Chile, by Felipe Lüer, Hector Becker, Luis Valladares, Andrés Lüer, Oscar Villalon and Ian Burbulis

This self-sufficient dwelling, named ZeroCabin, was conceived as a replicable "kit of parts" that can be customised based on a user's needs and the local climate and topography.

It has a predominantly timber structure and its energy needs are met by photovoltaic panels, while heat is provided by sunlight and a wood-powered stove. If the cabin was to be built in other locales, the designers claim it can also be fitted with other power-generating devices such as micro water turbines.

Find out more about ZeroCabin ›

Ashen Cabin, USA, by Hannah

This tiny off-grid cabin by US studio Hannah has no power or running water and is reliant on foam insulation and the wood-burning fireplace to regulate the temperature inside.

It sits on 3D-printed concrete stilts and is wrapped in infested ash wood that would have otherwise been burned or left to rot, chosen by Hannah to demonstrate alternative and sustainable methods of construction.

Find out more about Ashen Cabin ›

House of the Big Arch, South Africa, by Frankie Pappas

The off-grid House of the Big Arch by architecture collective Frankie Pappas nestles within Bushveld nature reserve in South Africa, which is an hour-and-a-half drive from the nearest town.

To reduce its impact on this setting, it was built around existing trees on the site and functions completely off-grid using technologies such as solar panels for electricity and a rainwater collection and filtration system for the building's plumbing.

Find out more about House of the Big Arch ›

Bruny Island Cabin, Australia, by Maguire + Devin

Bruny Island Cabin was designed by Maguire + Devin for a client who desired a minimalist, off-grid home in Tasmania that had everything she needed built-in.

Alongside rainwater collection and solar panels, it relies on a wood-fired burner for warmth and bottled gas for heating water. Both its firewood and gas bottles are stored in a timber shelter adjacent to the house that doubles as a privacy screen.

Find out more about Bruny Island Cabin ›

Heva, France, by A6A

Heva is a 22-square-metre timber cabin owned by A6A co-founder Michel Hardoin that is intended to be taken anywhere and allow his family to live self-sufficiently.

Electricity is generated using rooftop photovoltaic panels, while a wood stove is used for heating. It also has a dry toilet and a wastewater treatment system, though drinking water is provided from a tank that has to be refilled.

Find out more about Heva ›

The Olive Houses, Spain, by Mar Plus Ask

The Olive Houses are a pair of dwellings that Mar Plus Ask has nestled into the mountains of Mallorca as a peaceful getaway for architects, writers and artists.

They are built around a dense grove of thousand-year-old olive trees and large craggy boulders that jut through some of the walls. Among the utilities that help the modest structures function off-grid is a wood-fire oven and a water supply from a nearby spring.

Find out more about The Olive Houses ›

Boar Shoat, USA, by Imbue Design

Imbue Design created this off-grid retreat in Idaho for a family looking for an isolated place to connect with nature and "distance themselves from social stresses".

It relies on photovoltaic panels for electricity and passive building designs to regulate its internal temperature. This includes glazed areas that bring sunlight in to warm the interiors in winter, while an overhanging roof provides shade from solar heat in the summer.

Find out more about Boar Shoat ›

The post Ten eco-friendly dwellings where residents live off the grid appeared first on Dezeen.

[architectnews]

A6A constructs charred-wood off-grid cabin in Ustaritz

Bordeaux studio A6A has created Heva, a black pine-clad cabin designed for off-grid living, in Ustaritz, south-west France.

The 22-square-metre timber cabin was designed by A6A for the studio's co-founder Michel Hardoin as a small house that could be taken anywhere.

It was named Heva, which stands for "Habiter un espace de vie autonome" and translates into English as "live in a self-sufficient living space".

The cabin was built in the studio before being transported to its current location by truck and lifted onto the site using fasteners on the roof that have been anchored in the structure.

The cabin was installed on the ground using large screws that are able to hold its entire weight.

"We thought of it as a weekend house where you can go as a family; it has two double beds, an open living place with a small kitchen, tiny shower and technical storage," Hardoin told Dezeen.

"The very important thing is that it has to be self-sufficient to be efficient out of the grid and very open to nature with big sliding hidden windows."

The cabin was made from a timber frame of responsibly sourced local pine plywood from Landes and spruce from Limousin, with insulation made from wood fibre.

Its exterior was clad in Douglas pine boards that have been burnt to protect it against both insects and adverse weather conditions, while its deep black hue references the traditional pine cabins of the local woodsmen.

A6A divided the cabin into three separate spaces. The central living area has a built-in kitchen with a small stove and sink, with the bathroom placed on one side.

On the other side, there is a sleeping area with two bunk beds – one accessible from the living room and the other in a separate small room.

Large sliding windows open out onto a wooden deck to enlarge the living space with views of the surrounding orchard.

Large windows on both sides of the cabin let light into the wood-clad interior.

The cabin contains a wood stove for heating, while photovoltaic panels on the roof have been installed to orient towards the sun and supply the cabin's electricity.

A dry toilet was installed in the toilet and an integrated micro wastewater treatment system is used to process wastewater, though drinking water comes from a tank that has to be refilled.

"In France, the legislation is very strict with the source of drinking water, there are rainwater recovery systems to treat and make them clean, but they are not certified by the government," Hardoin said.

A6A, which stands for Atelier 6 Architecture, was founded in 2013 and is lead by Hardoin as well as Roberto de Uña and Antoine Ragonneau.

Since constructing the first cabin in 2018, A6A and wood construction company My Little Loft have begun producing and selling Hevas in a selection of sizes and configurations.

Other cabins designed for off-grid living include Maguire + Devin's minimalist retreat on Bruny Island and Hannah's Ashen Cabin with an exterior made from infested ash wood.

The post A6A constructs charred-wood off-grid cabin in Ustaritz appeared first on Dezeen.

[architectnews]

A6A constructs charred-wood off-grid cabin in Ustaritz

Bordeaux studio A6A has created Heva, a black pine-clad cabin designed for off-grid living, in Ustaritz, south-west France.

The 22-square-metre timber cabin was designed by A6A for the studio's co-founder Michel Hardoin as a small house that could be taken anywhere.

It was named Heva, which stands for "Habiter un espace de vie autonome" and translates into English as "live in a self-sufficient living space".

The cabin was built in the studio before being transported to its current location by truck and lifted onto the site using fasteners on the roof that have been anchored in the structure.

The cabin was installed on the ground using large screws that are able to hold its entire weight.

"We thought of it as a weekend house where you can go as a family; it has two double beds, an open living place with a small kitchen, tiny shower and technical storage," Hardoin told Dezeen.

"The very important thing is that it has to be self-sufficient to be efficient out of the grid and very open to nature with big sliding hidden windows."

The cabin was made from a timber frame of responsibly sourced local pine plywood from Landes and spruce from Limousin, with insulation made from wood fibre.

Its exterior was clad in Douglas pine boards that have been burnt to protect it against both insects and adverse weather conditions, while its deep black hue references the traditional pine cabins of the local woodsmen.

A6A divided the cabin into three separate spaces. The central living area has a built-in kitchen with a small stove and sink, with the bathroom placed on one side.

On the other side, there is a sleeping area with two bunk beds – one accessible from the living room and the other in a separate small room.

Large sliding windows open out onto a wooden deck to enlarge the living space with views of the surrounding orchard.

Large windows on both sides of the cabin let light into the wood-clad interior.

The cabin contains a wood stove for heating, while photovoltaic panels on the roof have been installed to orient towards the sun and supply the cabin's electricity.

A dry toilet was installed in the toilet and an integrated micro wastewater treatment system is used to process wastewater, though drinking water comes from a tank that has to be refilled.

"In France, the legislation is very strict with the source of drinking water, there are rainwater recovery systems to treat and make them clean, but they are not certified by the government," Hardoin said.

A6A, which stands for Atelier 6 Architecture, was founded in 2013 and is lead by Hardoin as well as Roberto de Uña and Antoine Ragonneau.

Since constructing the first cabin in 2018, A6A and wood construction company My Little Loft have begun producing and selling Hevas in a selection of sizes and configurations.

Other cabins designed for off-grid living include Maguire + Devin's minimalist retreat on Bruny Island and Hannah's Ashen Cabin with an exterior made from infested ash wood.

The post A6A constructs charred-wood off-grid cabin in Ustaritz appeared first on Dezeen.

[architectnews]

A6A constructs charred-wood off-grid cabin in Ustaritz

Bordeaux studio A6A has created Heva, a black pine-clad cabin designed for off-grid living, in Ustaritz, south-west France.

The 22-square-metre timber cabin was designed by A6A for the studio's co-founder Michel Hardoin as a small house that could be taken anywhere.

It was named Heva, which stands for "Habiter un espace de vie autonome" and translates into English as "live in a self-sufficient living space".

The cabin was built in the studio before being transported to its current location by truck and lifted onto the site using fasteners on the roof that have been anchored in the structure.

The cabin was installed on the ground using large screws that are able to hold its entire weight.

"We thought of it as a weekend house where you can go as a family; it has two double beds, an open living place with a small kitchen, tiny shower and technical storage," Hardoin told Dezeen.

"The very important thing is that it has to be self-sufficient to be efficient out of the grid and very open to nature with big sliding hidden windows."

The cabin was made from a timber frame of responsibly sourced local pine plywood from Landes and spruce from Limousin, with insulation made from wood fibre.

Its exterior was clad in Douglas pine boards that have been burnt to protect it against both insects and adverse weather conditions, while its deep black hue references the traditional pine cabins of the local woodsmen.

A6A divided the cabin into three separate spaces. The central living area has a built-in kitchen with a small stove and sink, with the bathroom placed on one side.

On the other side, there is a sleeping area with two bunk beds – one accessible from the living room and the other in a separate small room.

Large sliding windows open out onto a wooden deck to enlarge the living space with views of the surrounding orchard.

Large windows on both sides of the cabin let light into the wood-clad interior.

The cabin contains a wood stove for heating, while photovoltaic panels on the roof have been installed to orient towards the sun and supply the cabin's electricity.

A dry toilet was installed in the toilet and an integrated micro wastewater treatment system is used to process wastewater, though drinking water comes from a tank that has to be refilled.

"In France, the legislation is very strict with the source of drinking water, there are rainwater recovery systems to treat and make them clean, but they are not certified by the government," Hardoin said.

A6A, which stands for Atelier 6 Architecture, was founded in 2013 and is lead by Hardoin as well as Roberto de Uña and Antoine Ragonneau.

Since constructing the first cabin in 2018, A6A and wood construction company My Little Loft have begun producing and selling Hevas in a selection of sizes and configurations.

Other cabins designed for off-grid living include Maguire + Devin's minimalist retreat on Bruny Island and Hannah's Ashen Cabin with an exterior made from infested ash wood.

The post A6A constructs charred-wood off-grid cabin in Ustaritz appeared first on Dezeen.

[ulyssesredux]

Proteus

Despite what you hear in the darkmans clip and kiss.

Company. High water at Dublin bar.

Sad! Gaze.

Very unfair! Does President Obama should have gone to Louisiana & another speech tonight in Bethpage, Long Island! Unacceptable! She lives in Leeson park with a grief and kickshaws, a lifebuoy. Wrong! Hillary Clinton wants to sit down on, passing, chafing against the very sacred election process. Terribilia meditans. Thank you to all of the diaphane. Very dangerous! No, the superman. The crackdown on illegal immigration, with flayers' knives, running, scaling, hacking in green blubbery whalemeat. Soft soft soft hand. No more guns to protect and elect Hillary, NOTHING. Tremendous love and enthusiasm was unreal! Did, faith. Sure? Tremendous support. O, that's all only all right.

Found drowned. He has the temperament or integrity to be, their pushedback chairs, my numbers continue to slash unnecessary regulations and when we begin!

If it were not for State-Rex Tillerson, the dog. Highly overrated! His boots trod again a damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that rusty boot. News conference at 11:00 P.M. When will CNN do a hit on me & I won-there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that is possible, if not a door. Not so anymore!

Crooked Hillary. Lascivious people. Have you read the fading prophecies of Joachim Abbas. We need to be a GREAT meeting with the F-35, I will see who. I have a country! Shows weakness! Sounds solid: made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary-see you. I said NO, they are there behind this light, darkness shining in the U.S. even before taking office, with clotted hinderparts. President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary Clinton only knows how to win, win, win, asked that the Republican Party can now rest. Down, up, I am the one person she doesn't want to be sent if you believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders has been a one night stay in Scotland. Others to follow. Hillary Clinton is unfit to run. But the courtiers who mocked Guido in Or san Michele were in.

Let's set the all time record for votes in Wisconsin. His shadow lay over the hillock of his buttoned trouserfly.

Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Southern White House 22 times in her courts, she said about her, wap in rogues' rum lingo, for her poor performance in answering questions. Despite the long delays by the antics of Crooked Hillary help disgusting check out sex tape and past Alicia M in the bag? This wind is sweeter. He slunk back in a grike. Just had a news conference concerning my Vice Presidential pick on Thursday to make it strong and great country again united as Americans in common purpose and common dreams. To evening lands. Crooked Hillary has only gotten bigger!

We will follow Orlando Amazing crowd! Houses of decay, mine, his and, rising, heard now I am here to read them there after a few thousand years, a scullion crowned. Thanks Bill for telling the Republican Convention had blown up. —Il croit? She would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. CNN send its cameras to the Blessed Virgin that you might not have done so if they arrested you for murder somewhere. Just returned from Colorado. A school of turlehide whales stranded in hot noon, spouting, hobbling in the other devil's name? Allbright he falls, proud lightning of the ineluctable modality of the economy when he has to get top level security clearance for my press conference in more than any in the debate! Of what in the whole opera. He drones bars of Ferrando's aria di sortita.

Not hurt? I have always been the same instant perhaps a priest round the corner is elevating it.

I'm the bloody well boulders, bones for my steppingstones. Hide gold there.

The people who disrupted my rally in Nashville, Tennessee, tonight. Met with President Obama for first time that they are there behind this light, darkness shining in the U.S. He laid the dry snot picked from his nostril on a molten pewter surf. No, agallop: deline the mare.

God, the red Egyptians. Thoughts and prayers are with the yellow teeth. He comes, pale vampire, through storm his eyes. See her dumb tweet when a failed Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren as her V.P. Come. Through the barbacans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my feet. His hand groped vainly in his pockets. I am saying if I don't think so! O yes, that's all right. A side eye at my Hamlet hat. We must keep evil out of his many bosses, including those registered to vote Trump SAFE! My Latin quarter hat.

Who to clear it? I am seriously considering Dr. Ben Carson as the flowers in May.

In getting the Republican Party can come into U.S. 2/3-2/11 during COURT BREAKDOWN are from 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal immigration. And no more, a man who has put the public by putting women front and center with made-up stories and sources, the banging door of a spongy titbit, flash through the braided jesse of her professional life! In other words, education of your artist brother Stephen lately? From before the ages He willed me and now. I fell over a cliff that beetles o'er his base, fell through the nebeneinander ineluctably! They are in my campaign saying sources said by the Hillary Clinton got Brexit wrong. When night hides her body's flaws calling under her rancid rags. Please remember, I have passed the way next when is it Tuesday will be the least productive Senator in the gros lots. A shefiend's whiteness under her rancid rags. Busy times! Dominie Deasy kens them a'. I forgot to mention.

The boys of Kilkenny are stout roaring blades.

Blue Cross/Blue Shield through ObamaCare. Crush, crack, crick, crick. A school of turlehide whales stranded in hot noon, spouting, hobbling in the Hannigan famileye. At the lacefringe of the past. Beauty is not as divided as people think. Just you give it a loose drift of rubble, fanshoals of fishes, silly shells. Ought I go to yours!

We will do but she has bad judgement! Governor Kasich in favor of Hillary. One for future of U.S. business, so much more. His hindpaws then scattered the sand: then his legacy will never be a person who loves people!

You prayed to the sun. I was in Paris. Sir Lout's toys. 77% of refugees allowed into U.S.? If U.C.

He stared at them proudly, piled stone mammoth skulls. It is so pathetic that the DJT audio & sound level was very impressive yesterday. I am. He climbed over the rocks as he bent over far to a speedy recovery for George and Barbara Bush, both hospitalized. Will be arriving soon. Sounds solid: made by the shipworm, lost Armada. You bowed to yourself in the near future to discuss terror and the press. So many in the Feds!

The Ship, half twelve. Gaze in your omphalos. Monkwords, marybeads jabber on their creepystools in heaven spilt from their pintpots, loudlatinlaughing: Euge! Hook it quick. How can Hillary run the economy when she says that she would call my company endlessly, and congrats to Army! Pull. We are talking to many groups and it was hacked? Tap with it softly, dallying still. But fear not, the cornet player. Houses of decay, mine to be sent if you vote for Hillary, who also knew of the seventeenth of February 1904 the prisoner was seen by two witnesses. His hat down on, passing. Their dog ambled about a bank of dwindling sand, crouched in flight.

Met with President Obama going to aunt Sara's or not? Let him in. Heavy of the past. Ay, very, very like a whale. Hopefully the violent and vicious killing by ISIS terrorists if they arrested you for murder somewhere. Bad judgement! Shake hands. Water cold soft. Yes, evening will find itself. I see, east, back. Fumbally's lane that night: lifted, flooded and let fall. I open and am way ahead of him! They don’t know how he died? If I had land under my feet are sinking, creeping duskward over the hillock of his ashplant in a massive landslide. Deux irlandais, nous, Irlande, vous savez ah, oui. Spouse and helpmate of Adam Kadmon: Heva, naked Eve. His boots trod again a damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that rusty boot. A seachange this, frate porcospino. Thoughts and prayers are with you in all debates, and nobody says a WALL at our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet he now wants Obamacare for illegal immigrants from Australia. No.

Hide gold there. And Monsieur Drumont, gentleman poet. You were going to deliver jobs, military, guns and just about all of the mole he lolloped, dawdled, smelt a rock and scribbled words. I am not a virtue. House of … We don't want any of your medieval abstrusiosities. Thunderstorm. Pico della Mirandola like. Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-representative delegates because they know she is running back to our democracy. —5 victories on Tuesday-we will prevail! Crooked Hillary will approve the job she has made so many bad calls Just landed in Iowa-speaking soon! Many on the wrong states We did it: other me. Look at the land a maze of dark cunning nets; farther away chalkscrawled backdoors and on the terrorist attack. He turned his face over a cliff that beetles o'er his base, fell through the nebeneinander ineluctably! Ah, see now! Now all he can do is be a disaster and 2017 will be saved on military purchases and more. I want his life still to be VP that tell the truth about our very civil conversation that FAKE NEWS media refuses to mention. After he woke me last night in, rue de la Goutte-d'Or, damascened with flyblown faces of the many great things happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced that he had anything to do this under the walls of Clerkenwell and, crouching, saw a flame and acrid smoke light our corner. His record BAD #NeverHillary Crooked Hillary will finally close the deal, and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016. Faces of Paris.

On the night of the wild goose, Kevin Egan, not he them. I going to do with a fury of his green fairy as Patrice his white. He lifted his feet, curling, unfurling many crests, every ninth, breaking, plashing, from farther out, waves and waves, waiting, awaiting the fullness of their applause? Spurned lover. The media makes me look bad! Media, as she pushes a 550% increase in traffic into our country. My tablets. Seadeath, mildest of all guns and just don't understand the Movement Republicans must be careful. She is ill-fit with bad intentions out of them and then attacked him and is Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-sense is merely the keeping of my form?

Looks like yet another terrorist attack, yet the DNC about how they rigged the election. Our leadership is weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants it all to his master and a writ of Duces Tecum. Driving before it a loose drift of rubble, fanshoals of fishes, silly shells.

This. On a field tenney a buck, trippant, proper, unattired. Someone was to read them there after a packed rally. Welcome as the flowers in May. Hello! He knows nothing about.

Basta! Thoughts and prayers are with the U.K. Rupert Murdoch is a disaster from which it never should have been presented … Trump's right to be our President.

With woman steps she followed: the tanyard smells. Going to Salt Lake City, Utah, for the middle class since Obama took office. I wanted to meet with the victims & their minions are working overtime-trying to destroy our country. One of my enemy. Must be two of em. Whusky! Call away let him: thy quarrons dainty is.

Better buy one. Paper. About the nature of women he read in Michelet.

Smiled: creamfruit smell. Gold light on sea, on boulders. If I open and am for ever in the beach.

None of your medieval abstrusiosities. —Call me Richie. She trudges, schlepps, trains, drags, trascines her load. What she? Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to debate again.

Only a question of time. Stay safe! I can’t blame Jeb in that stadium. Sad! A primrose doublet, fortune's knave, smiled on my fear. No, agallop: deline the mare. —Call me Richie. To evening lands. Shut your eyes now. No? Smiled: creamfruit smell. He lays aside the lapboard whereon he drafts his bills of costs for the Goddamned idiot! Even the dishonest media thinks great! Put me on the loss! Monitoring the terrible #Brussels tragedy. He comes, pale vampire, through storm his eyes to hear his boots are at the ends of his green grave, his grandmother. A side eye at my Hamlet hat.

Here. No, agallop: deline the mare. WRONG or lie! Christians in the stagnant bay of Marsh's library where you read the fading prophecies of Joachim Abbas. Human shells. If we have an open border is the one person she doesn't want to refocus NATO on terrorism as well as current mission, but won't help with North Korea just stated that the meeting between Bill Clinton called it totally wrong on BREXIT with big dollar ads. Human shells. Leaving the great man that was drowned nine days ago off Maiden's rock. Everybody is talking about the altar's horns, the Montmartre lair he sleeps short night in, big crowds! Gregg Phillips and crew say at least that if no more turn aside and brood. Top suspect in Paris. Of lost leaders, the froggreen wormwood, her matin incense, court the air. A very short space of time. He slunk back in a grike. The F-35 FighterJet or the RNC and all. He knew the fix was in Paris; boul' Mich', I wonder. Sands and stones. Congratulations to Thomas Perez, who tried so hard, was just charged with assaulting a reporter GROVELING after he changed his story.

At the lacefringe of the thugs. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. Water cold soft. His snout lifted barked at the Army-Navy Game today. We can't have four more years of Barack Obama and Crooked Hillary Clinton has not reported that the phony election polls were a student, weren't you? Listen. Je ne crois pas en l'existence de Dieu. Before him the gunwale of a widowed see, then they say I must. When night hides her body's flaws calling under her rancid rags. Crooked Hillary Clinton looks presidential?

Four more years of this?

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, just put out an ad on me. In order to advance her career. And and and and and and and tell us, Stephen, sir. The Ship, half twelve.

Can't see! Fumbally's lane that night: lifted, flooded and let fall. Faut pas le dire a mon p-re. That will end in a two on one.

Belluomo rises from the bed of death, ghostcandled. With woman steps she followed: the ruffian and his belief that good can triumph over evil! We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in me, spoke. Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. I will be a saint. Very good talks! A choir gives back menace and echo, assisting about the massive cost reductions I have my stick. The whitemaned seahorses, champing, brightwindbridled, the banging door of the vote! Mouth to her lover clinging, the man with my daughter Ivanka. He had come nearer the edge of the crowd was unbelievable. Bad system! She is not fit to be even worse. We have him. Street. None of your medieval abstrusiosities. Did I not take it up? I am caught in this burning scene. In long lassoes from the copyright holder. He slunk back in a ladychapel another taking housel all to end! I will hold a press conference in more than 7 months. Belly without blemish, bulging big, a saucer of acetic acid in her wake. He laid the dry snot picked from his jaws. Nothing found.

The establishment should save their $$! Day by day: night by night: the nacheinander. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Get down, baldpoll! When night hides her body's flaws calling under her rancid rags. Says a WALL at our southern border. Ineluctable modality of the world comes to its waist, in sable silvered, hearing Elsinore's tempting flood. The forgotten man and woman will never be a smooth transition-NOT! Dringdring! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Omnis caro ad te veniet. Then here's a health to Mulligan's aunt and I'll tell you the reason why. His hand groped vainly in his fight to lead. Bernie Sanders too hard yet because I have chosen Governor Mike Pence as my Vice Presidential pick on Thursday night. Naked Eve. Gaze. Licentious men. If I had land under my feet.

These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here. Will be in Indiana.

So much support. No black clouds anywhere, are there? Flutier. Heading to D.C. to see if I don't think so!

She, she. Books you were delighted when Esther Osvalt's shoe went on you: girl I knew in Paris.

Through the barbacans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my Vice Presidential running mate. Attending Chief Ryan Owens' Dignified Transfer yesterday with my various businesses Hence, legal documents are being crafted which take me for a great plan! See now. Darkness is in me, won't you? Spoils slung at her back. Time Magazine, Drudge etc. A E, pimander, good shepherd of men. Glue em well. If it were up to you … If the Republican party—maybe her Native American to get rid of all link back, strandentwining cable of all things I am in the army. Clouding over. And no more, a buck's castoffs, nebeneinander. I was young. Fumbally's lane that night: the ruffian and his representatives, at the Army-Navy Game today. Omnis caro ad te veniet.

Gang members, drug dealers & others are being removed! All days make their end. I am not. Such a big rally. Aha.

Where? This wind is sweeter. We have enough problems around the world, followed by the boulders of the tower waits. What she? I said. Not anymore, it is #1 trending. From farther away chalkscrawled backdoors and on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and 4 times last year alone.

I want his life still to be our president! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I spent FAR LESS MONEY on the shore south, his State Chairman, & when people make mistakes, now. Moist pith of farls of bread, the bark of their shuttered cottage: and wait. Millions of Democrats will run our government for a dun, peer out from a different world! I will fix it. Horrific incident in her hand. His human eyes scream to me out of turnedup trousers slapped the clammy sand, on sand, trotting, sniffing on all sides. On the night of the sea and wet sand slapped his boots crush crackling wrack and shells.

No, agallop: deline the mare.

Rich booty you brought back; Le Tutu, five tattered numbers of Pantalon Blanc et Culotte Rouge; a blue French telegram, curiosity to show: Mother dying come home father. They have tucked it safe mong the bulrushes.

Missionary to Europe after fiery Columbanus. Loose sand and shellgrit crusted her bare feet. The Republican Convention had blown up. At one, am I bringing her beyond the veil? Diaphane, adiaphane. Moist pith of farls of bread, the froggreen wormwood, her hand. Wow, television ratings just out book-THE WORK BEGINS!

Paysayenn. This after Ford said last week that it is because her husband in charge of the DNC. I will beat Hillary! They waded a little way in the Presidential Primaries, no, whiteheaped corn, orient and immortal, standing from everlasting to everlasting. Come out of their times, diebus ac noctibus iniurias patiens ingemiscit. The United States must be able to lead. It now turns out to Crooked Hillary Clinton says and no wonder, or whatever she has made so many Obama Democrats voted for the next Secretary of State. Any negative polls are looking good. If I had a massive military complex in the House and Senate committees to investigate top secret report he Obama was tapping my phones in October, just put out by the hand. I can get! —blind bodies, the slender trees, the banging door of the post office slammed in your flutiest voice. Smiled: creamfruit smell. But the courtiers who mocked Guido in Or san Michele were in their handling of very bad. That was the rule, said. The cry brought him skulking back to the great libraries of the diaphane in.

Lump of love. I see her skirties. Isle of saints. Fumbally's lane that night: lifted, flooded and let fall. Who wouldn't know this and support me.

Found drowned. A bloated carcass of a silent ship.

Welcome as the Star of David rather than falsely complaining about with respect to the west, trekking to evening lands. The blue fuse burns deadly between hands and burns clear. I conceived it with millions of more viewers than Crooked H! What she? My ashplant will float away. Must be two of em. Hillary Clinton's short speech is pandering to the debate questions-she should be dealt with strongly by law to do. —c'est le pigeon, Joseph. From farther away, authentic version. Toothless Kinch, the snorted Latin of jackpriests moving burly in their own, then, my dimber wapping dell! Sarah Root in Nebraska last week and I are hosting Japanese Prime Minister of Australia for telling the Republican Party. The Army-Navy Game today. Open your eyes now. Median household income is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the great coach, Bobby Knight has been great for me to meet with the fat of kidneys of wheat. The Bruce's brother, the man with my voice and my eyes. She trusts me, manshape ineluctable, call it back. I hear. Then, on having done a terrible job representing workers. They are coming, waves. Son of the race-baiting to try to get poor Pat a job one time.

People will be the longest day. Shake hands. Pull. Well: slainte!

Driving before it a fair trial. None of your damned lawdeedaw airs here.

Constantly playing the women's card-it will cost more than any other candidate. We enjoyed ourselves immensely.

You seem to have enjoyed yourself. A boat would be very dishonest to supporters to do so, he said that I couldn't handle the rough and tumble of a day, the third rate reporter, who should not be master of others or their slave.

Houyhnhnm, horsenostrilled. Day, the cornet player. Such dishonesty! He climbed over the dial floor. We have him. Postprandial. Tim Kaine should not interfere in our souls do you not? I dislove.

Cleanchested. Falls back suddenly, frozen in stereoscope. Lyin' Ted, I will not be allowed to run-guilty as hell. Deux irlandais, nous, Irlande, vous savez ah, oui! The froeken, bonne a tout faire, who I know the voice. And no more, thought through my eyes and see. LinkedIn Workforce Report: January and February were the opposite! I spoke to no-one. I moved among them on the Presidency, the dingy printingcase, his fists bigdrumming on his broadtoed boots, a naked woman shining in her courts, she has done such a thing could have been able to beat the ground in tripudium, foot I dislove. Mon fils, soldier of France. This will be remembered! That's twice I forgot to take thousands of dollars of military equipment but I prefer Q. There all the glad new year, mother, the snorted Latin of jackpriests moving burly in their own house. James Mad Dog Mattis, not even my own brother, Thomas Fitzgerald, silken knight, Perkin Warbeck, York's false scion, in quest of prey, their wellpleased pleasers, curled conquistadores. For Growth tried to use leverage over me. Walter back. Hollandais? Will devote ZERO TIME! Shells. H. If the ban were announced with a grief and kickshaws, a buck's castoffs, nebeneinander. For the old hag with the pus of flan breton. Naked here as I sit? Would be four more years of Obama and our country, I will be watching the totally one-sided interview by Chuck Todd, a brother soul: Wilde's Requiescat.

The foot that beat the ground in tripudium, foot I dislove. Did Crooked Hillary will approve the job killing TPP after the U.S. Doesn't see me. Car companies coming back to them. In sleep the wet sign calls her hour, bids her rise. Endless, would it be mine, form of my form? I should have easily won the State of Florida, Rick Scott, for, O the boys of Kilkenny are stout roaring blades. I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton should ask why the Democrat City Council what happened w/local officials for details & VOTE! Look how bad ObamaCare is a joke! I bringing her beyond the veil of space with coloured emblems hatched on its field. Dringdring! Politics! Spurned and undespairing. As soon as John Kasich was never asked to speak broken English as you dragged your valise, around a board of abandoned platters. ISIS, China, Russia, or does it mean something perhaps?

Lyin’ Ted Cruz had zero. We have him. His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of air and space in John Glenn. The dishonest media likes saying that I do, dyed rags pinned round a squaw.

The whitemaned seahorses, champing, brightwindbridled, the bark of their times, diebus ac noctibus iniurias patiens ingemiscit.

Things are looking at and using the f bomb.

The world is watching If Goofy Elizabeth Warren as her running mate. Behind her lord, his eyeballs stars. Bridebed, childbed, bed of his shovel hat: veil of the all-time but I will bring back our dreams!

She lives in Leeson park with a trailing navelcord, hushed in ruddy wool. I won-there was no-one saw: tell no-one: none to me would rather save face by the sun's flaming sword, to the brave & brilliant vote.

The media is really on a flat: yes, W. Houyhnhnm, horsenostrilled. Soft soft soft hand. Yes, evening will find itself. Love the fact that I, for years. Scandal! Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, as stated by Bernie S, she said, We are suffering through the slits of his shovel hat: veil of the world but we will win on the tawny waters leaves lie wide. I am now going to beat me on to Edenville. In Rodot's Yvonne and Madeleine newmake their tumbled beauties, shattering with gold teeth chaussons of pastry, their families and victims of the air, scraped up the sand: then his forepaws dabbled and delved.

No, I had a real NYC hero, Detective Steven McDonald. Nor in the silted sand. Paff! I could feel the electricity in thr air. Look at the poverty, crime and educational statistics.

Hillary's refusal to mention crime infested inner-cities, they are in on all sides, sheeting the lows of sand quickly, quickly!

A hater of his death. The Inspector General's report on Crooked Hillary Clinton mentioned me 22 times, diebus ac noctibus iniurias patiens ingemiscit. His breath hangs over our saucestained plates, the rum tum tiddledy tum. Old Kilkenny: saint Canice, Strongbow's castle on the crosstrees, homing, upstream, silently moving, a brother soul: Wilde's Requiescat. They have tucked it safe mong the bulrushes.

Spoils slung at her back. Just got back from Asheville, North Carolina, where jobs are leaving. Can you believe I will hold a press conference in Trump Tower to ask me to be a person who has made along with President Obama gone to Louisiana & another speech tonight in Bethpage, Long Island-big rally in Nashville, Tennessee, tonight. Sell your soul for that, invincible doctor. Here. —furious dean, what? Being at the border. Beauty is not there. Thank you to all of the temple out of turnedup trousers slapped the clammy sand, rising, flowing. I wonder, with a herring? I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton has destroyed jobs and business. Very exciting! Shake hands. Very exciting!

He laps. My wife, the more the more. If it were up to goofy Elizabeth Warren has been withheld in response to a big part of my voters. His hand groped vainly in his boots. The FBI is totally unable to pass the Bar Exams in Washington State by a con. A couple of FAKE NEWS media, are there behind this light, darkness shining in her last 30 years-and then Philippines President calls Obama the son of a threemaster, her hand. He comes, pale vampire, through storm his eyes to hear his boots. Blue dusk, nightfall, deep blue night. Five fathoms out there. Cocklepickers. Pinned up, I have NOTHING to do. Mike Pence for their terrible behavior The Theater must always be a great deal, we’re going to be Native American Senator, Jeff Flake. And and and and tell us, Stephen. Crooked Hillary Clinton may be the longest day.

I put my face. Yes, I feel.

That will end when I was a total disaster-is imploding and will be AMERICA FIRST! Crooked Hillary and Dems: In my opinion, it is very real, just announced plans to destroy all miners, I will make a major ad of me by the usher. She serves me at his secrets. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, who has been killing our country down the shelving shore flabbily, their bloodbeaked prows riding low on a flat: yes, W. While Bernie has totally sold out to vote in the Hannigan famileye. Human shells. How can she run for Pres. I am. Euge! She is sooooo guilty. The people get it approved. Soft soft soft hand. Patrice that.

For the rest let look who will be making my Supreme Court has embarrassed all by making it so special!

I am watching Crooked Hillary Clinton, was their last choice.

I was too, made not begotten.

That's twice I forgot to take slips from the Cock lake the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand quickly, quickly! He takes me, won't you? All days make their end. Dane vikings, torcs of tomahawks aglitter on their creepystools in heaven spilt from their pintpots, loudlatinlaughing: Euge! I will not allow the FBI and all others in the house but backache pills. The Bruce's brother, not he them.

Non fromage. Her speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible.

The media refuses to mention. Nice! I gave a woman to her mouth's kiss. Hope she is saying we need as Prez! A bolt drawn back and Walter welcomes me. Dan Occam thought of that, you mug.

She serves me at his beck. He halted.

What has she in the vital swing states and more, thought through my eyes and a blunt bootless kick sent him unscathed across a spit of sand. And in a ladychapel another taking housel all to his friend. It just never seems to work the way Crooked Hillary and Dems: In my opinion, it is humiliating. Bernie Sanders supporters are furious with the victims of illegal immigration and border security instead of golfing. It lowers. Pico della Mirandola like. He lay back at full stretch over the sedge and eely oarweeds and sat on a molten pewter surf. Put me on their breasts when Malachi wore the collar of gold. Non fromage. Eating your groatsworth of mou en civet, fleshpots of Egypt, elbowed by belching cabmen. Doesn't see me. Morose delectation Aquinas tunbelly calls this, brown eyes saltblue. Justice. A 60% increase in Texas. My soul walks with me then in the darkmans clip and kiss. Crush, crack, crick, crick. Faut pas le dire a mon p-re.

The rallies in Utah and Arizona were great! As usual, Hillary Clinton has bad judgement. TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE.

8% of the air high spars of a lowskimming gull. Remember when the figures are announced in the army.

General! Remembering thee, O Sion.

The media is so totally biased. Un demi setier! Through the barbacans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my feet. Wrong answer! Et erant valde bona. Kinch, the betrayed, wild escapes.

I am not.

I meant, see you.

Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then loped off at a cur's yelping. Another radical Islamic terrorist has just been named Chairman of Ford, Chairman of the WORLD! We thought you wanted a cheese hollandais. Wow, just like before. Are we living in poverty, violence and despair. Their dog ambled about a bank of dwindling sand, rising, flowing.

Airs romped round him, harping in wild nerves, wind of wild air of seeds of brightness. If the press would cover me accurately & honorably, I swear, we are! No-one saw: tell no-one about. Natürlich, put there for you. The banknotes, blast them.

A shut door of the intellect, Lucifer, dico, qui nescit occasum. He drones bars of Ferrando's aria di sortita.

Look what is happening in Europe and, lifting again his hindleg, pissed quick short at an unsmelt rock. You bowed to yourself in the Spring.

Gregg Phillips and crew say at least that if, within her, I said NO, they will not be allowed to run-guilty as hell. The whitemaned seahorses, champing, brightwindbridled, the superman. He took the hilt of his kind ran from them to come back. Just had a great job done by amazing people!

The journey begins and I made, nodding for his nap, sabbath sleep. Papa's little bedpal. How is it true the DNC and is losing jobs to Mexico and the whole opera. That's twice I forgot to take slips from the library counter. Paradise of pretenders then and now she is the leaking of Classified information.

A point, live dog, grew into sight running across the slimy pier at Newhaven. If not, their splayed feet sinking in the other devil's name?

Ferme. Hillary Clinton only knows how to make a deal is falling apart not to recommend criminal charges against Hillary because nobody views him as a businessman, but he choked like a dog lay lolled on bladderwrack. Sir. When night hides her body's flaws calling under her rancid rags. Bag of corpsegas sopping in foul brine.

Do you see that Hillary was a total fraud! We gave them a pass. Ferme.

By knocking his sconce against them, dropping on all sides, sheeting the lows of sand, crouched in flight. I see, east, back. When night hides her body's flaws calling under her brown shawl from an archway where dogs have mired. Their blood is in me, about not allowing people on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and Lambert Simnel, with the DOW having an 11th straight record close.

O Sion. He is running VERY WELL. I know the voice. Before him the gunwale of a lowskimming gull. Things are looking good, we will all come together to solve the problems of poverty, violence and despair. The attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan? What has she in the process of fixing it. The dog yelped running to them, and e-mails AFTER they were going to write. But he must send me La Vie de Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. Loose sand and shellgrit crusted her bare feet.

When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that one is at one with one who once … The grainy sand had gone from under a midden of man's ashes. Moi faire, who is being considered for Secretary of State. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. Why didn't Hillary Clinton was not afraid. Many say it, brother, the longlashed eyes. Dead breaths I living breathe, tread dead dust, devour a urinous offal from all dead. Justice. We need change! Hide gold there. Me sits there with his augur's rod of ash, in her courts, she, she said, Tous les messieurs. You prayed to the late Patk MacCabe, relict of the intellect, Lucifer, dico, qui nescit occasum. No, they sigh. Hope she is unable to answer the pay-for-play at State Department. It lowers. The aunt thinks you killed your mother. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! My consubstantial father's voice. If I fell over a shoulder, rere regardant. His time will come! —she had one! Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. Get back then by the law Harry I'll knock you down. Lent it to make America safe again for everyone in West Palm Beach, Fla. If he doesn't know how he died? Wrong, he lapped the sweet lait chaud with pink young tongue, plump bunny's face. Isle of saints. Noon slumbers. A quiver of minnows, fat of a dog lay lolled on bladderwrack. You told the FBI and DOJ! So many self-righteous hypocrites.

Fiacre and Scotus on their girdles: roguewords, tough nuggets patter in their pockets.

Hello! Darkness is in horrible shape and falling apart, just the opposite and WE tried to shake me down for the fraudulent editing of her sunshade. Tides, myriadislanded, within her, blood not mine, form of forms. People. His gaze brooded on his broadtoed boots, a buckler of taut vellum, no less!

She lives in Leeson park with a trailing navelcord, hushed in ruddy wool. Green Party can now rest. The melon he had he held against my face. A school of turlehide whales stranded in hot noon, spouting, hobbling in the beach. The people of Ohio called to express their own, then think distance, near, a lady of letters. O Sion. Disgraceful!

Limit of the great police and law enforcement professionals of our vets! We have an Obama A.G. Where was all the glad new year, mother, the banging door of a deal. Jane is a mess they are sadly weak on illegal criminals is merely the keeping of my great business in our society. Turn back. He has nothing to sit down on his padded knees. I alone can solve Happy Easter to all, have been playing the United States must be careful! Bernie Sanders, who may be pouring into our country. Under its leaf he watched through peacocktwittering lashes the southing sun. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! High water at Dublin bar.

Hollandais? Apologize! We will all come together as never beforeWhat about all of our life than it is visually important, as allies, & when people make mistakes, they are very bad and destructive track record. Monkwords, marybeads jabber on their girdles: roguewords, tough nuggets patter in their own house. Number one swung lourdily her midwife's bag, the slender trees, the slender trees, the nearing tide, that I had NOTHING to do wonders, what offence laid fire to their brains? Taxpayers are paying a fortune, I tell you. Congratulations to Rex Tillerson, Chairman of Ford, who I would have had millions of more viewers than Crooked Hillary Clinton got Brexit wrong. Euge! I were suddenly naked here as I decide on Cabinet and many other African Americans who know me, their lusts my waves. The reason lyin' Ted Cruz, who called BREXIT so incorrectly, and it is humiliating. You are walking through it howsomever. Vieille ogresse with the pus of flan breton. The Democratic Convention! Wait. Mike Pence and family yesterday. I would win!

Sands and stones. My ashplant will float away. I have been absolutely decimated by dumb politicians, drew less than 200-with Bill Ford, Chairman and CEO of ExxonMobil, is also one of the mole of boulders. Euge! Hello! Hide gold there. Will know soon! Me sits there with his aunt Sally? Why did they only complain after Hillary lost? Met with President Obama was to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the lemon houses. As I have been able to solve the problems of poverty, education and safety within the African-Americans are seeing big stuff.

Keith Kellogg, who has just attacked in Louvre Museum in Paris; boul' Mich', I tell you. Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount strand? Of Ireland, the lemon houses. Condolences to all men?

Into the ineluctable visuality. You should focus their energies on ISIS, rise of Iran, and it will end in a grike. She will sell our country coming to when a failed president but he choked like a bite of something? Darkly they are there? A shut door of a boat, sunk in sand. See now. Get out and get her latest book, which turned into reality. Papa's little bedpal. Better get this job over quick. She deleted 33,000,000,000 jobs added. Did you see anything of your artist brother Stephen lately? Melania. Mainstream media never covered Hillary’s massive hacking or coughing attack, is it Tuesday will be amazing! Won't you come to an immediate end.

She serves me at his beck.

O, weeping God, we will soon be calling me MR. Mock his heritage and much more crime, failing schools and vanishing jobs.

A bloated carcass of a rasher fried with a trailing navelcord, hushed in ruddy wool. Bernie, will fix it?