Cottage Academy: Memories of Mam

Work on the Roof gets underway

I think often of the mothers that occupied this house before I arrived. One was described to me by her daughter as so fine a homemaker that she was ‘an artist really.’ This mother was pregnant with her final child, whom she planned to call John, when she re-modelled a room ahead of his arrival. It was to be the nursery. Baby John was stillborn however, something that broke this lady’s heart, but the family continued to call it John’s Room nonetheless.

I still whisper the odd hello to this mam and baby as I push open the door into John’s Room.

* * *

The swallows had departed back to Africa by the time work began on the roof which was just as well. I didn’t want to disturb them in their little nest in the rafters of the bedroom in which I now sleep.

There was no felt or insulation in the original farmhouse roof which means the two families that occupied this house before me, slept practically outside. It amazes me how in just one generation we have moved so far from our remarkably resilient roots. Insulation options for an old house vary greatly but since the thermal mass of the stone walls should theoretically hold heat, I opted to insulate as much as possible initially in the roof and later, the floor.

For now, the interior walls had been stripped back to bare limestone and were slowly drying out. Meanwhile, I was busy researching every element of old house restoration available to me with particular focus on natural materials. The roof was to be insulated with sheep’s wool for warmth and re-slated while the chimneys needed to be re-capped and re-plastered with lime. The concrete barges set on each gable were crumbling and leaking and needed to be stripped and re-poured. There were three working chimneys, the largest of which provided for an old range in the main living room that disintegrated upon contact. There was a 1950’s style tiled open fireplace in the parlour. The two downstairs bedrooms in the lower eastern gable had an antique cast iron fireplace in each, one of which was blocked up.

After buying the house I had a tiny budget left to complete the renovation and I was exploring all options as to how best to proceed. There was an engineer engaged through the conveyancing stage and a local draftsman was recommended to draw up existing plans. The local conservation officer called to the house and recommended a conservation builder; both were invaluable in terms of advice. The singular priority was to preserve everything that could be saved and repair rather than replace everything else.

For a while I seriously considered a corrugated red tin roof, the cheapest option of all, which I still think would look charming but was warned it could destroy the look of the old house. Parts of the old roof timbers were rotten where they met damp stone walls but otherwise they were intact enough to repair. One hundred year old timber is far superior to modern fast-wood forestry in terms of strength and durability so I considered this a gift from the house itself.

The school of old house learning

Since the option of a contractor went out the window with the mortgage, I was now a self-builder and would need to manage and finance each stage of work myself. As the roof began to eat up every penny I had, I was becoming aware that the finish date was in fact years not months away. I decided on natural slate and while I couldn’t afford the classic farmhouse Blue Bangor slate from Wales I compromised on natural stone slates quarried in Spain. I met the company rep at a petrol station in Corofin to examine the options. These slates require copper nails and point hooks to fix them in place along with extra labour costs for the roofer. The 1400 slates, together with nails, hooks, breathable felt and ridge caps alone cost just under €5,000.

I had well and truly blown the budget at this point but there was still the chimneys, barges, insulation, fascia, soffit and gutters to consider. In addition there was an old scullery type kitchen at the back of the house where the walls were literally streaming with water. Above this sat a reinforced concrete water tank and this was to be dismantled and re-roofed in a lean-to style.

Upstairs there were bedrooms at each gable end and a large landing which was lit by an old iron skylight which was leaking and rotting the timber floorboards underneath. It is in this spot that I sit writing today. Skylights were required to bring light into this area and it was really important to me that I could stand and see the beautiful, uninterrupted views stretching over the green vales of Kilshanny and beyond to Mount Callan in the distance to the south. I yearned for the beautiful conservation skylights seen on state of the art heritage restorations but these were way out of my budget. Instead, I opted for two large Velux windows set low into the roof so I could see out. I learned there are different flashings required for roof-lights depending on whether the roof is slate or tiles. Through some really thorough research I learned you can cheat expensive heritage skylights by using a low profile flashing so the window sits more subtly into the roof. For a more authentic heritage look, a centre glazing bar can be fixed on the window externally.

I got three quotes for the roof phase, selected the tradesman I thought best suited the job and work got underway in early October. Six weeks into a job I thought would be finished in a month; there was no end in sight. As late autumn turned to winter the roof was a long way from finished leaving the cottage in a vulnerable state.

I had no idea then, that the seasons would be about to change again before this phase was complete and the roof was finally secure.

*Warm thanks to those supporting this Substack, option to buy a coffee here

**Further articles are available to paid subscribers. Enjoy!