Snow, snow, snow

I wrote last week's entry on Friday night; had I waited until Saturday, it would have read slightly differently.  Whilst doing yet more laths on Saturday (to be ready for the plasterer on Tuesday), it was steadily snowing outside.  By lunchtime it was about four inches, and by the time my arms were dropping off (if you've ever done laths you must know what I mean!) it was nearer eight inches (see photo right).  I had serious doubts about being able to drive even just the one mile back home.  I accomplished that safely, but found that on a new-ish housing estate (where we are currently renting), the local council does NOTHING about snow/ice gritting etc on roads, far less pavements.  As I drove into the estate, the roads became steadily worse until I gratefully reached the 20cm virgin snow in our cul-de-sac.

Of course, this had obvious implications for my project management plans for the week: basically, nothing has happened.  The carefully laid plans for the collection of our rooflight, the fitment of the rooflight and the finishing of the roof around it, the finishing of replacing laths on two bedroom ceilings, plastering of those two ceilings, and the removal of the scaffolding - NOTHING.  Apart from the snow, it really has been very cold, with minus 11 deg C one morning this week, when the hot water system in our 10-year old rented house froze!

The good news was that our first grandchild was safely born (early) on Sunday evening, and the snow did not prevent us from driving to visit on both Monday and Tuesday.  So, work is suspended whilst we attend to more important issues in life, like supporting our son and daughter-in-law with their new responsibilities, and celebrating Christmas with our daughter plus partner, who arrived here today.

See Amid the Christmas Dust

The electricians have not been seen for twelve days (see "Kurt the Destroyer"), so it was almost a surprise when they appeared on Wednesday this week, and worked Thursday as well.  Mind you, it was not a pleasant surprise really, as I am now well aware that young Kurt is not the best person to have working on a period house. 

Firstly, it did not take them long to make the entire house a complete tip (again); when I arrived at 9.30 on Wednesday, it was hard to believe that they had been there for less than 90 minutes.  Most floorboards, which I had re-fitted but not fastened, had now been lifted again, plus an annoying few more had been lifted even though I thought that job had been finished.  Then, with no floor board beneath, they used their wretched Kanga to chase cable runs, leaving yet more dust everywhere.  In the course of those two days they also broke a hinge on a bedroom door, trod on the thermometer (carefully hidden in a corner), put a foot through the lath in the ceiling above the landing and repeatedly used my tools without asking!  (NB I am aircraft-trained, where it is a cardinal sin to lose track of one's tools, so you do NOT borrow tools.)

I will admit that one issue was not Kurt's fault.  When he removed a length of skirting board in a bedroom, it came away from the wall with a 30" x 4" x 4" bit of oak attached to it (leaving a large hole in the inner wall face)!  (See photo right.)  The rest of the skirting board is attached with nails driven into wooden plugs in the wall, as one would expect.

I have grave reservations about the use of wood in walls in this house, and would love an explanation for what this was meant to achieve.  There have been other examples which seem totally pointless, as mentioned earlier (see "Is it really only three weeks?" in November).


Progress Update

Anyway, the good news is that the roof is effectively finished, as see by these three photos.

My (very expensive) 5 inch cast iron guttering has been installed (see right), and I think it looks lovely. Chris the roofer said that it went together very well indeed, and I had ordered exactly the right items, apart from one extra length of guttering. Ah well, better safe than sorry - I'll use it on the extension. After the imminent removal of the scaffolding the downpipes will be fitted next week.

I took delivery this week of 25 rolls of insulation for the loft; this is 60% sheep's wool and 40% recycled polyester (to give it body), and cost as much as the guttering.  At least I can look a conservation officer in the eye with a clear conscience!

I am now tackling the laths in the back bedrooms.  Both these ceilings had been damaged by dampness from water ingress, and so it was no surprise to find that many laths were rotten.  I had bought new hand-riven oak ones but of course they were a different size to the ones fitted.  In fact, in retrospect, the current ones may not actually be hand-riven as they are mostly far more regular in all dimensions than the ones I have bought. This makes replacing individual laths quite difficult and I found it easier to remove some extra ones so that a larger area was replaced.  Worryingly, the extra ones I removed were also found to be rotten, so I ended up replacing probably 40% or so.  By the way, this really is a rotten job, as every time you nail, dust falls on you, despite having brushed the joists and laths above twice.  Top tip - do NOT drive the nails completely in until you are sure that you are happy with the spacing, which includes checking from further away, off the ladder.

Intriguingly, I found myself humming "Hey Big Spender" whilst doing this job.  When I realized this, it then took me some time to find the subconscious link (answer next week).

Getting to know the neighbours

After just six weeks ownership, it was fair to say that the house was starting to look like a work in progress, rather than just being damp, cold and unloved.  There had been much interest shown by everyone who passed by, and the house clearly had an air of mystery in the locality; consequently, Jane had a wonderful idea that we should invite the people we knew, and the whole of the street (of who I had met several whilst working on the front wall), into the house so that they could see for themselves what it was like.  I suppose at the back of our minds was the hope that eventually we would have a house of which we would be proud, and would feel even prouder of it if people had seen for themselves just how bad it was when we started!  Thus it was that we had about forty invitations printed and distributed, offering mulled wine and discerning conversation about old houses over a period of three hours last Sunday morning.

We had over thirty visitors altogether - we both lost count as there was always someone to talk to; at least people now know why we have not moved in.  I have to admit that it was very cold indoors; due to the scaffolding we had to use the front door but it has a rotten frame (to be done in January) and sticks on the floor, so it had to be left ajar all the time.  Fires were lit in both the groundfloor rooms - I had cut a lot of the rotten wood into decent blocks and it was all consumed.

I suspect that once I was a bit sharp on someone from up the road when we were talking about the dampness issues; he asked if we were going to fit a chemical DPC (!) and I said "absolutely not!" which came out just a bit strongly.  Mind you, he does live in a house which is older than ours so I wonder if that is what he's done?

Overall, we were confirmed in our view that people here are very friendly and we think that we are going to enjoy living in such a community.

Progress Update

We have been held up by the weather recently, as one might have expected; I think the roofers have lost seven days in the last two weeks.  This has been especially frustrating as we were so close to completing the roof.  However, it warmed up sufficiently by Thursday to enable the last coat of the chimney rendering to be done and the box gutter has slates and ridge tiles (see photo right); now all that is left to do are just a few slates, some "muck work" for the back ridge and hip tiles and then the installation of the guttering.  Then we can have the scaffolding down!

Today (Saturday) was an unusual day as there was no-one at the house but us.

Together we removed all the plaster from the two back bedroom ceilings as there were many holes due to the leaks (see photo left).  I have to repair the laths this week so Phil can do the plastering in a week's time.  Lath is quite expensive (~£20/sq metre) so I saw no reason to pull it all down and then pay to replace it.  We tried removal from beneath, trying to keep it tidy, but then I decided that it was better to go up above the ceiling and to scrape the plaster off the top of the laths and push through to fell the plaster below.  This is very messy, but also very satisfying when you push and a whole square foot falls down below. 

The end result is in the photo on the right.  No plaster, lots of laths and lots of holes!  On Monday my first job will be to tidy up the mess...

One benefit from this approach was that it is more obvious when you find a rotten lath - we have a good number that appear to be fine but are rotten inside and have no strength at all (not forgetting the many which suffer from wet rot).  We were very glad that we did not see anyone we knew, as we walked back up the road to our car doing our impressions of the dinner party in "Carry On Up The Khyber" (but with rather scruffier clothes under the dust).  Perhaps we should have waited until it was dark!

Kurt the Destroyer

We've owned the house for six weeks now, and I'm still amazed at the speed of things.  The roof is almost done, but we lost the whole week except Monday to the weather - annoying when it would only take three days perhaps to finish.  The electricians started last Friday, and the ground floor installation is almost done.  Neil the contractor employs a younger chap called Kurt; he is really very good and likeable, but this week I have discovered that he is really "Kurt the Destroyer".  Chasing the runs for the cables into lime plaster walls produces prodigious quantities of dust and debris, which covers everything including the kettle, cups, tea bags, first aid kit, my glasses etc.  He just doesn't notice or care, it seems (what is his own house like?).  Feeding cables down the walls from the joists above means that he has to lift the upstairs floorboards and so makes a mess works both upstairs and downstairs at the same time.  He also broke a window in the French door (which is going to go eventually, but not yet) by trying to get a massive tool store in through it, which was NEVER going to fit.  So, the entire place is a real mess, and we have invited the neighbourhood round on Sunday for mulled wine and to have a gander at our work.  (The real reason is so that when we finish they will appreciate what we have done all the more!)

I had some success this week; the front room floor joists are virtually finished, and I have ordered some reclaimed floorboards which are to be planed to size. In the meantime, in preparation for Sunday's visitors I have re-laid the old floor boards (without fastenings), and the whole room feels better.

I have also constructed a loft access hatch.  This might sound simple, but when you have suspect and not necessarily parallel joists of various sizes, with a rotted sill plate (due to the roof leaks) which I had not noticed before, it becomes decidedly complicated.  I had to design and construct a new pair of joists to support the sides of my hatch as I did not trust the existing joists to bear the additional weight.  This is a view from the hatch along the new joists:

This is the new bit of sill plate (the bit of wood on which joists rest), made from the bit of joist which I had just cut out for the hatch space.  There is a real joy in immediately finding a use for a nice bit of oak which you have just made redundant!  I was quite surprised to be able to lift the new joist (on the left) with my shoulder whilst slipping the new sill plate underneath.



In case you like roof timbers, here are a couple of views of the A-frames inside the roof:

So, before the roofers cover the membrane and it is lost to natural light for 40 years, I have been able to make the loft hatch.  At least there was a benefit of the bad weather!

Project Management

You know those house shows on TV where someone says that he/she is going to do the Project Management for their project, whilst also doing a full-time job, and not having enough money so they decide to do a lot of work themselves?  And usually the couple decide that this is also a good time to have their first baby?  Well, now I know for sure that they are absolutely stark staring mad!

Often the people on TV end up making poor decisions, paying more for work because of their tight schedule, and getting very stressed about everything.  I know I'm not in the first flush of youth but once you start the pressure is relentless and it is all so tiring and time-consuming.  All I have been doing is some work on the joists in the lounge but I keep getting interrupted, and so have not been able to do the loft access or plaster removal which I thought I would have done by the end of November.  I wanted to do this project at my own speed so I didn't get stressed and could enjoy the whole process.  The reality is that as soon as you get a contractor in, you are working to HIS schedule, not your own, and normally contractors want to get things finished pretty quickly (assuming that you haven't paid them in full up front and they just clear off with your money!).

Anyway, we've been having a few scheduling issues with the chimneys which have impacted the roofer's schedule.  Hopefully the rendering on the back chimney will be done this weekend which will allow a bit more scaffolding to come down, leaving the way clear for completion of the leadwork, followed by the last of the slating then the "mucky work" which is where the roofers have to use cement to fix all the ridge tiles.  We might even get the rest of the scaffolding down in the next two weeks; the upper front lift has already come down, revealing the newly rendered front chimney (which will weather soon, I hope!):

In all that work there will also be the installation of our new cast-iron gutters and downpipes, which all arrived yesterday.  These are VERY expensive and are what you should fit on a listed building; people were counselling me to use a form of plastic which is said to look like cast-iron (really?).  For me this was a conscious decision made in advance of purchase of the house, and it was also an argument that I did not want to have with the Conservation Officer.  In my view, if I say that I will do a project properly, and then suggest using plastic guttering, I will immediately lose all credibility and that will impact all future proposals that I make to the Council.  So, pick your arguments and build up your credibility by being conscientious in what you are doing with your bit of heritage.  Possibly, later, they might just be more sympathetic when you ask for a major decision in your favour...

My first wheelbarrow

It feels like one of those rites of passage - the purchase of your first wheelbarrow.  Not one of those namby-pamby garden wheelbarrows but a large solid "contractor's wheelbarrow", built to endure the rigours of a building site.

The scaffolders' version!

This is my wheelbarrow

This was required to facilitate the rendering on both the chimneys, which need some considerable attention.  I had the task of removing the old render, some of which fell off and some just refused.  The issue is that you can damage the brickwork if you hit too hard, as the lime mortar is softer than the cement render.  You can also hit your own hand, graze your knuckles under the chisel, and generally just get VERY tired by hitting a chisel with a 4lb mallet about 10,000 times in one day whilst perched on the top lift of the scaffolding.

Phil the Plasterer asked me to get the materials for the rendering.  Now, this sort of thing always happens with me, even though I asked for clarification, so I shouldn't have been surprised this morning when the lorry bringing the requested seven bags of "fine washed rendering sand" actually arrived bearing seven one-ton bags!  I did not have either a need or a place to keep one such bag, so I had to make a trip myself to the aggregate yard to allow the work to proceed.  This was an experience which Jane and I shared with some trepidation; it is the sort of place that you don't want to go to unless you have been there before.  However, they were very nice about the morning's error (whoever's fault it was), and sold me 250kg of sand for £6 (NB they weigh the vehicle in and out - seems odd in a car).  Phil assured me that their rendering sand is the best there is, but then added that the 250kg of sand was an under-purchase!  Well, I could hardly have got any more sand in the bags, and how was I to know how much sand I had put into the bags myself, shovelled from a pile of 500 tons?  (Top tip: when carrying open bags of sand in your car, do make sure that they are securely stowed and do not move when you brake.)

The rear chimney has had the top six courses rebuilt with "engineering bricks", and has also been fitted with four new chimney pots (excuse scaffolding poles):

It all looks so new, but I'm sure it will weather.  I discovered a new word during this job: the mortar around the actual chimney pots is called "flaunching".  I would have liked to use reclaimed pots but frankly it is very unlikely that one will find anything suitable which is serviceable, having seen the damage on the ones we removed.  Mind you, I was a bit surprised that they were so bad that the brickies threw three of them off the roof onto the hardcore pile!  Not even good enough for garden ornaments, it seems.

So, today the front chimney had its scratch coat done by Phil, while I spent a while reclaiming about 35 of the bricks from the same pile for eventual use in our extension, which saved about £15 and made me feel good.  The top coat will be done tomorrow, the roof is now almost half slated, and hopefully we shall see some major progress this week with the rest of the lead work being completed.

A highlight this week was when I carried a roll of lead up the 10 metre ladder, discovering at the top that it weighed 37kg, and wishing I hadn't felt the need to compete with Chris the roofer.  A day later he asked for help in carrying 400 slates up, 20 at a time.  After four goes with only 15 each time, I gave up and watched him.  That was when I discovered that he is less than half my age!

Theft of Lead

When I first met the roofer, I asked what they did about security of scaffolding.  His reply was memorable: "You're from London, aren't you?  It's not like that round here!"  Sadly, I have been proved right, and last Thursday night some little d******d went up on our scaffolding and helped himself to one bit of lead at the base of the newly installed valley. 

Sadly, being the lowest piece, the damage caused was the maximum possible.  For his troubles, the perpetrator has got some lead worth about £8, but he has caused about £500 worth of damage/repair work.  Probably about 30 slates have been destroyed, but to do the repair properly, almost 200 slates will have to be removed which will cause a good few more to be damaged, at over £1 each for reclaimed slates (or £3.50 for new Welsh slates!). 

This morning I asked the scaffolder if he knew of anyone who does scaffolding alarm systems.  "No," he said, "we have never needed to use anyone for that!"

Is it really only three weeks?

We seem to have done so much in only three weeks; the roof is progressing slowly, thanks to the usual autumnal weather, but at least we have seen the first slates go back on.  Encouragingly, we don't seem to have lost as many slates as first thought, so just a few reclaimed ones will be needed to complete the job.  Also, the scaffolding has been extended (see the platform above the gutter level) to permit work on both central chimney stacks, which should start next week.

This week's drama was inside.  I decided to take up a few floorboards in the lounge (the rest of the downstairs is solid floor); we knew that there was some issue with the joists where they meet the wall which has the solid hall floor and stairs on the other side.  In fact, the twelve joists are in better condition than I had expected, thanks to a good-sized air space underneath, apart from three places where no air could circulate due to builders' rubbish.  The end of the joists do not rest on the solid foundation as I had expected; rather, there are four small brick walls which support the joists, each with a bit of four by two acting as the sill plate on top of which the joists rest.  After I had taken up the two floorboards closest to the solid wall, I could see that there was indeed some rot/woodworm etc in some of the joist ends and in a few floorboards. Also, the sill plate was rotten in a few places.  Well, that's still fixable. 

I think that the ends of the joists should not actually contact the solid wall but they do - someone had thought it a good idea to fill the gap with mortar, which then enabled the joist ends to become damp and hence rot.  Also, the plaster was too low behind the skirting boards and actually touched the floorboards, again helping dampness to spread and causing rot.  I could add some photos of really bad bits of rot but I'm sure you know what it's like - it looks OK but crumbles in your hand...

I was still thinking that I could fix this all myself when I cleared away some plaster and caused some mortar to fall off which revealed WOOD at the base of a brick wall.  It was with a sinking heart that I removed the plaster at the foot of the entire twelve foot wall to reveal that it was built of brick with a wooden foundation layer at floor level.  I went home both depressed and puzzled! 

The next day, further investigation revealed that this wood may be actually in quite good condition so I shall consider treating it and leaving well alone.  I then resolved to take some more floorboards off to discover the extent of the woodworm and rot on the joists, especially the joist beside the damp external wall (where someone has installed a raised concrete path outside).  Take my advice - be prepared if you do this, and know when to stop.  The first thing was that I found more wood in the external wall - this was a smaller piece which of course had rotted thanks to the damp external wall.  I think it was to help secure the skirting board, but it had long since ceased to serve any purpose except to act as a sponge.

Three hours later I had removed about half of the flooring in the lounge and, hopefully, I have found the end of the woodworm and rot.  I also had the joy of removing a twelve foot piece of skirting board complete without damage, only to see it split under its own weight as I picked it up - woodworm again!  More firewood.

So this time I went home via a well-known supplier of building materials to buy a load of new timbers with which I shall discover if I can fit a level floor, once I can find about twenty five feet of reclaimed 7"x1" pine floorboards which do NOT have woodworm and rotten bits!

Second Week Progress

Well, we've owned this house for two whole weeks now and the pace is relentless.  In that time I have had on site at least sixteen different people of almost every trade possible, apart from the plumber who is coming next week.  I'm still shattered but tomorrow I'm off for a charity meeting, so that's it until Monday.

This week I have had the electrical system disconnected entirely and replaced with a new circuit breaker box which supplies four sockets and the two storage heaters.  This was because I had no faith whatsoever in the existing system, and there seemed no point in checking it out when I knew that we would want a completely new system.  My caution was entirely justified today when, in removing the bedroom cupboards, I found that the square pin sockets were supplied by lead sheathed cable!  LEAD SHEATHING!!?  I had no idea that such a thing existed - at least I will profit by recycling the lead.

I have also had two chimneys checked so that I am now able to safely light a fire in both main downstairs rooms.  It really is amazing how much a room cheers up when you light a fire.  The effect was further improved when Jane then demolished the dirty, damp and dark cupboards beside the chimney breasts - suddenly we could see the room as we knew it ought to look.  One of these cupboards in particular was riddled with woodworm and I took much pleasure in burning all that wood outside.  The shelves were lined with local newspaper from May 1954, which included advertisements for the local cinemas which were showing Doris Day in "Calamity Jane" and the Marx Brothers in "Duck Soup".  Sadly this paper was too damaged to save as it was riddled with woodworm holes and so fell apart as we touched it.

The roof has progressed and Barry the Chippy will finish his work tomorrow hopefully, which will enable some slate to be refitted.  I think that completion of the roof is now intertwined with work required on the chimneys stacks, which is obviously a complication that the roofer is used to, so I'll leave him to it.

I was most impressed with the structure of the roof.  Essentially the load is carried by two large A-frames which Barry assures me are probably original:

These frames are staggered: the far end of the right hand A-frame is resting on an internal major structural wall and beyond that are two bedrooms, and the left hand A-frame goes to the far wall.  Here's another view of the right hand one:

We had wondered about using the loft as another bedroom but this A-frame is right in the way; the mechanics of replacing it would be hugely difficult and expensive (even if allowed) and if we didn't do that, I wouldn't want two rooms which were only six feet wide (the rather thin joists are at about 300mm spacing).

Finally, I also had a go at some pointing this week.  Given the exceptionally mild conditions forecast (as lime mortar does not like frost when setting), it seemed a good opportunity to fill in a few of the deep holes in the rubble on the side of the house.  This was done to bring it up to a 20mm depth, and the final pointing will be done when I have bought the matching colour for our lovely yellow/cream mortar.  I have found that pointing is time-consuming (as one would expect) but it also appeals to some deep desire of mine to put things in order and I find it very satisfying.  I am afraid that I have rendered a small part of the insect world homeless just before winter, but it's another small step forward.  There's a lot more to do!

Taking Breath after the First Week

One of my aims in doing this project was to do it at my own speed.  There is no point, I reasoned, in having a tight timescale and creating stress for myself if I'm actually in no particular hurry to get the house finished.  I want to take the time and enjoy this, I thought in my innocence.  We've now owned the house for eight days, and I've never been busier!  Clearly it is not going as I expected.

The plan this week was to get the electrical supply protected on Monday, so that we could safely erect scaffolding on Tuesday and commence roof work on Wednesday.  Unknown to me the roofer knew the track record of the electricity supplier and so arranged the scaffolding for Wednesday instead - wise man!  Due to van failure, the electrical work did not happen on Monday and on Tuesday when I phoned it became clear that Monday's work had not been rescheduled...  After a few pleading phone calls, the emergency team came out late on Tuesday - dark and raining - and kindly did it.

While the scaffolding was going up on Wednesday, I had a call from a chimney sweep company who will check and sweep two of our chimneys so that I can light a fire or two to warm the house up.   The scaffolding finished early on Thursday, so the roofers started and by the end of Friday the former roof lay on the ground in the garden building site, with the naked rafters now covered with tarpaulin.  As work progressed I continued the removal of the ivy which was now possible using the scaffolding, although annoyingly there is still some ivy remaining just below the working platform twenty feet up.  Barry the carpenter ("chippy") visited on Friday and will be happy to do other work on the house.  He also surprised me by saying that he would come on Saturday and Sunday to do the soffits and fascia.  This caused me to have to turn up on Saturday to finish removal of the ivy in the region of the electrical supply bracket, as well as being able to tidy up when the old soffits and fascia were removed.

The chippy removed the fascia and soffit except where there was still ivy, where he left the soffit for me.  The power cables (ours and next door's) came away from the rotten fascia very easily but the real issue was where these cables disappeared into the ivy and emerged at the bracket two feet lower.  Gradually I removed the soffit and the dead ivy stems from both sides of the corner bracket and was down to the last three feet when there was a bang and a flash - the supply for next door had some bare cable!  That was enough for me - time to call the electricity supplier again - this time as an emergency.  (Anyone remember the Flanders and Swann song "The gasman cometh"?)

I forgot to mention that the roofing contractor's mate called Chris asked if I had a plasterer, as his brother in law was a plasterer called Phil who lived just along the road...  (Is there a slang term for a plasterer?)  So Phil came along on Saturday morning and seemed very keen and capable - another contractor found.  Then Phil asked if I had an electrician or a plumber, and to my surprise while I was waiting for the electricity lineman at 4.30pm, Neil the Sparky turned up to have a look - another contractor found.  Eventually the electricity lineman and his mate arrived; it turned out they were the ones who should have done the job on Monday!  They condemned the existing supply cables as dangerous (for both houses) and connected a temporary supply, leaving the way clear for the ivy removal, and departed at 6.45pm.

Thus it was that I have just spent nine hours working at the house on a Saturday.  This week has seen far more progress than I would have dared to expect even on a tight timescale, never mind my relaxed approach.  At this rate the roof will be done in a week and we are off to a flying start, with several contractors lined up, but I am shattered.

The Original State of Our House

Having owned this house for all of one day, I have taken lots of photos to record for posterity the original state of the inside of the house, as I have done some work outside and posted a number of photos already.  Here are a few of my efforts today of the general condition, mostly showing signs of lots of damp:

Kitchen fireplace

Kitchen floor

Main Bedroom

3rd Bedroom (one of four holes in ceilings)

Hall Arch from stairs

Lounge

Paper holding plaster to wall!

Small Bathroom

Stairs with 2nd bedroom on left

Interesting wooden corner feature in plaster

Completion of the purchase at last!

This house is now ours, eleven weeks after we first saw it, and I'm off to collect the keys.  Equally importantly, for the first time in our lives, we own a house and have no mortgage - it's a good feeling!  Unfortunately Jane is away today and tomorrow, so I won't be able to carry her over the threshold when we go in for the first time.

Now the real work starts.  So far I have been doing detailed planning and some tinkering on the outside, like getting some ivy down.  I'm now about to take the architect inside as soon as I've got the key.  Next week we hope to have scaffolding erected and the roofer will start work, and I'll use the scaffolding to get rid of the rest of the ivy.  The condition of the roof trusses will be of considerable interest, as will the extent of damage due to water ingress.  I will also get the roofer's carpenter to have a look at the joists (all of upstairs, plus the lounge downstairs) as that is the other major unknown at present.  Just as the stonework behind the ivy was in surprisingly good condition, I am hoping that the joists won't be found to be rotten.

Earlier this week I cut back all of the growth (mostly ivy) along the low stone wall at the front, revealing the coping stones (with cement "repairs").  I almost had an accident when the "For Sale" board broke its Ty-Wrap and fell onto the pavement, to the concern of an old woman a few yards away.  I propped the board up again, but any concern I had about its security was removed an hour later when a man with a van came and took it away.  I also cleared the overgrown front garden of the bottles, cans and litter accumulated over a fair time.  The score was about 50 each of drink cans, glass bottles and plastic bottles, but the following morning someone had dumped two portions of chips, a bit of chicken, a paper wrapper and a drinks can.  Sigh... 

In the course of this work I had conversations with over a dozen people passing by, so it took longer than it might have done.  Clearly, work on this house is going to be a topic of considerable local interest.  Two of these people assumed that the entire building was going to be demolished, and were surprised when I said that it was listed.  Another woman told me about the owner in the sixties who had two Old English Sheepdogs; the garden was well laid out, and the dogs used to sit behind the wrought iron front gates to greet passing schoolchildren like her.  "You mean these gates?" I said, pointing to two rusty gates hidden in the undergrowth!

Exchange and Further Restoration Plans

At last! We have actually exchanged contracts this afternoon, with completion in two weeks.  I think I'll sleep well tonight; I realise that although I was sure it would happen, both our sale and our purchase have been taking their toll on me as things dragged on.  Solicitors... don't get me started.

Further Restoration Plans

We had intended to build a new extension containing the kitchen as the current kitchen is in the falling down extension.  However, following due consideration whilst lying awake at nights, Jane suggested putting the kitchen in the room across the back of the house itself, which we had been terming the dining room.

This change has a major affect on our plans: we had intended to do the extension and some of the house, move in and then finish the house soon after.  The moving date is fairly critical as we are in rented accommodation until April 2011, but we can extend by some time to be agreed.  The issue is that the owner will not want to extend the let to between October 2011 and Spring 2012 as the rental market tails off.  Hence we must move out by the end of August if we are not to stay in it until 2012.

To move in we obviously need a kitchen, so the critical path for moving in was doing the extension.  However (if allowed by the CO), we will now aim to do the entire house first, including the kitchen, and then we can move in, with the extension not being a critical path item.  This is very good news as our builder is not available until April anyway, and also there might be delays in the permission for the extension.

Another change is that I had intended to do a limecrete floor to what will now be the kitchen and raise its level by six inches.  Further investigation reveals that the floor is actually quite level and so, provided that the tiles clean up OK and I can reduce the height of the ground outside, we can live with the existing floor. That's one argument less to have with the CO, and a lot of money saved!

Teetering on the brink of progress

Awaiting exchange of contracts to buy, but still expect to complete on Oct 22nd simultaneously with our sale.  I have a contractor ready, and the LBC application is going in, so hopefully the work on the roof will start immediately following completion.  Every time it rains I have been in total frustration at the thought of the holes in the roof...

However, I have to confess that frustration got the better of me last weekend.  I had seen on one of my frequent visits that the dead ivy was coming away from the wall in some places.  Then, lying awake one night, I realised that if it ALL became detached from the wall then there would be a huge weight of ivy hanging from the corner of the roof where it is entwined with the gutter, slates and rafters.  This could only be bad news, so to protect my intended investment I decided to have a go at the ivy without delay. It took me just over two hours, including the left side and tidying up, using my loppers mostly as it was mostly too thick for secateurs.  The following photos show the before and after:

As you can see, I have hacked a line across the ivy back to the wall about ten feet up (OK, I know it's not horizontal), and also removed the ivy from around the bay window and along the bay roof where it was growing under the lead flashing. The cut channel will reduce the weight of potential "hanging ivy" by a good amount if it does decide to fall off, and it also pleases me to see the shape of the windows revealed!

I'm sure the vendor won't mind (or even know), so I'll probably have another go next week.  I didn't want to stand on the flashing but I'll take some boards next time so I can get around the bedroom window.  I will cut another line about five feet higher up on the left and round the corner but I can't go any higher as (a) my ladder won't reach and (b) there are unprotected electricity cables running to the top corner.  (I have already asked the electricity supplier to protect them so that we can put up the scaffolding to do the roof.)

Meanwhile, back to waiting for the good news.  Just how long can this sort of thing take?

UPDATED 12 OCT: Here's a later photo of both halves (ours is just the left hand) after a large part of the ivy just fell off last week (well, I gave it a slight helping hand):

At last we can buy this house

Happiness really is exchange of contracts!  At last the buyer of our flat in London has committed herself, contracts are exchanged and completion will be on October 22nd.  We have no idea why she was prevaricating - at first we thought it was her solicitor being inefficient and uncommunicative but we realise that actually it was the vendor herself.  One would have expected to exchange a long time ago on most properties where the sale was agreed in mid-May! 

Anyway, at last we can now exchange on our purchase of this lovely house - I will certainly attack the ivy very soon, but I might even ask if we can start work on the roof as soon as we have exchanged, as the vendor is well aware of the pressing need to sort the roof before the winter.  Whilst waiting these last few weeks, I have repeatedly done several jobs in my head, assessing how to do them and what could go wrong.  It will be a joy to actually get my hands on it!

Looking after old buildings with love

Still waiting to exchange contracts, so here's a bit about my knowledge and experience of old buildings:

I once went on a one day course with the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings (SPAB) called "Faith in Maintenance".  This excellent course was aimed at people who were elected as churchwardens and suddenly found themselves responsible for possibly a massive 800-year old Grade I listed church, without an idea of how to look after it. 

The major lesson from the course was "control the water" which goes on/in/down roof, gutters, downpipes, drains etc.  If you do this successfully, we were told, you will do four-fifths of the job.  Essentially, prolonged exposure to water means serious damage to an old building, and a high repair cost.  The old proverb about a "stitch in time saves nine" is very relevant but understates the saving as spending £500 on roof maintenance every year may well save a capital expenditure of a thousand times that in a few years time.

The second lesson was to never use inappropriate materials; I shall probably go on about this at length in this blog, but principally do not mix modern materials (cement/gypsum plaster) with old materials (lime mortar/plaster/render) because it doesn't work!  You have to understand how the building was intended to work with dampness and go with it, not fight against it.  A modern house sits on a waterproof membrane and works on keeping all moisture out by using impermeable materials, whereas a building made with lime mortar/plaster does not expect to be bone dry all the time (but see lesson one above!).  Instead, it expects there to be draughts, and manages moisture by allowing it to evaporate through the mortar in the walls.  Replacing the lime mortar with cement means that the moisture goes though the stone or brick instead, causing damage such as delamination of the face of the stone or brick.  Covering a wall with (impervious) gypsum plaster instead of lime plaster means that moisture will be retained inside the house; it has to go somewhere so it will form on the inside of the wall or run down windows excessively, etc.

So don't mix vinyl paint, ribbon pointing or injected chemical damp-proof courses with lime walls.  Basically, if you want a modern house then buy one, don't try to convert an old one.

My experience with a 320 year old church

In a sense I was lucky as the Grade II* listed church I looked after for five years only dated from c.1685, apart from the late mediaeval tower base.  In the church I found many examples of poor repairs and maintenance:

• cast iron downpipes replaced with black plastic
• earth/leaves/twigs allowed to pile up outside a wall, causing dampness and cold inside (see right)
• gypsum plaster repairs on lime plaster walls (it really does fall off)
• modern vinyl paints used on walls and stonework
• lime plaster falling off because of prolonged flow of rainwater due to a blocked gulley on the roof
• extensive use of a cement skim (about one-eighth of an inch) over walls, window cills and stonework, presumably done in some cases to tidy up the appearance of these items
• water pouring down inside the walls of the tower due to the internal roof not draining. This was caused by excessive pigeon guano (see right, lower), which itself was there partly because a previous rector had placed nesting boxes up there!
• damaged window panes not replaced - when these were done, I discovered that one pane, which had a sheet of clear plastic over the hole, had been missing for over 20 years; the annual maintenance had been to replace the sellotape holding the plastic!
• poor workmanship by roofing contractors, who had fitted new slates and copper valleys, but had bodged the woodwork around the clerestory windows (using untreated one-inch plywood in one place)
• the many church doors had been repainted without permission or skill - the old royal blue was now covered by grey paint which looked like the stuff used to paint battleships, and it was peeling as they had not even sanded down the blue to provide a key

The same roof window, before and after. 

 The same roof dormer door, before and after.

Most of these matters were rectified in my time, together with many more, but we were very busy and some remain...  You could sum it up by saying that the church building was not loved, and old buildings need to be loved if they are to survive.

Finding Contractors

A huge part of the success or failure of a project will depend on the quality of the contractors you find.  Good contractors are often booked ahead for some time and should always be able to give you good references for jobs they have recently done.  Even if they are not booked up solidly, you need to feel that they are reliable, competent people who you can trust and work with, and a personal recommendation from someone is one of the best ways of finding someone.  In London, with hundreds to choose from, I found a great plumber by asking a friendly letting agent who they used for emergencies, but even this approach may not work when you want a contractor to do a major job for you - he can fix a leak but can he install a complete system?.

Having just moved from London, I had a problem: I knew no-one at all.  What I did find was that people in the country are far more approachable than people in the big city and, possibly because of the small size of the town, they are more concerned about their reputation.  Contractors in London know that there are always new customers who will not have heard of their past misdemeanours, but here word would get around very easily.

So I resorted to the internet and found some local roofers and builders. Then I assessed them on a number of criteria, such as whether they had their own website, how helpful they were on the phone and how responsive to what I wanted to do.  At this stage some people eliminated themselves by not being sufficiently understanding about slate, lime and other traditional materials, or by just not returning calls.  I also wanted them to understand where I was coming from, and to accept that I had some knowledge and experience which I wanted to use and enhance.  There is no point in using a contractor who will battle against your intentions the whole way.  In both cases a face-to-face on-site chat settled my mind and somehow within a few days I had both the major contractors I needed.

I had thought that I would do the applications for consents myself as it hadn't been too difficult with an extension in 1993 but, when I checked the Planning Portal, it was clear that the requirements had changed.  There is now a lot more of them, and they all seem a lot more detailed, so I thought that doing it myself might just introduce errors and delays (and hence more cost) so I also decided to engage an architect for the extension.  Then I realised that if he was going to do the extension, he might as well look after the earlier applications for listed building consent for the roof and conservation consent for the access as well, since the extra work would be small but the benefit could be large, bearing in mind the tight timescales to get the roof done.

I found him in the same way as the contractors; a young chap with a family who lives about 500 yards away, who after visiting the site gave me a quote which was about the sort of sum I expected assuming that the work required is not excessive.

All that I need now is just to actually buy the place.  My sale in London is about to exchange contracts, and I think we can exchange on "The House" in a couple of weeks.  Right now I just feel frustrated when I see the rain outside as I just want to get the roof fixed NOW but I can't!

Our Restoration Plans

The structure of the house is part ashlar and part random stone construction with quoins, with lots of land around it. It has high ceilings, spacious rooms, old sash windows and red and black floor tiles, plus a late Victorian extension at the back which we intend to demolish and replace with a stone-built extension of slightly greater size.

Our plan for the house is to restore it largely as it used to be, using appropriate materials (i.e. lime not cement etc).  The only constraint here is that Jane does not want the interior to remind her of the sort of house that her grandparents lived in when she was young!  Hence if we aim for Late Georgian/early Victorian rather than late Victorian, I should be OK.  

What's wrong with the house?

Issues with the house are:

• The leaking roof
• The ivy (on roof and walls)
• The dampness, principally on the walls and upstairs ceilings
• The brick extension
• The lack of a gas supply
• The lack of any form of central heating

I also anticipate that the entire electrical and plumbing systems will need to be replaced, and that the joists and rafters may be suffering from dry rot/woodworm/other.  Apart from that, it's great!

The current single-storey extension is in danger of self-demolishing as it is only of single brick construction and the end wall is bowing to a considerable degree.  Also, the extension's door and window frames are rotten, the roof leaks, the floor is damp and overall there aren't many good things to be said for it.

Fixing the roof and guttering etc will address the major cause of dampness.  The work to be done will be to remove all ivy and slates, repair the roof structure as required, fit a waterproof membrane, fit new battens, repair soffits and fascia, fit new cast-iron gutters and downpipes and replace lead flashing and slates.  The photo on the right shows one of the downpipes with a fairly obvious major fracture which had clearly been there for some years, judging from the damage to the pointing lower down.

So there will also be pointing to be repaired as required with lime mortar (NOT with cement - I'll talk about that separately), windows to be repaired, and various matters to be addressed at ground level where the ground has risen up.  In some places the soil is against the wall at a level ABOVE the floor inside, which causes dampness; elsewhere someone has used concrete to fill in gaps (for instance) between the stone step and the wall outside the front door, thereby raising the ground level again and causing dampness.  The photo on the left shows a wonderful bit of cementing which traps two inches of rain water against the wall, between the drain and the edging.  It's hardly surprising that there is a lot of dampness!

There's also a small crack above the front door (photo right), but I'm not yet sure if this is a structural item or just a decorative surround.

Urgent repairs, and consents

Those who have never bought a property probably have not experienced the frustration of having to wait while faceless people (i.e. solicitors) follow a process which is fairly commonplace but just takes ages...  They are confident in the knowledge that they will get paid anyway so what's the rush?

Urgent roof repairs needed

In my case I want to get on and get the roof fixed before winter.  Every time it rains I want to get up there and fix the holes but I can't because it isn't mine yet, so I just worry about the damage being caused.  All I can do is plan and try not to worry.  The impending onset of winter was in fact one reason why our offer was found acceptable, because the vendor could see that the property would suffer further if not repaired in some way so either he had to pay out for some work or else sell it quickly.  The worst case for him would have been still to own it during winter and watch it suffer, and then he can only sell it for less than now, or even worse the council serve him with an enforcement notice to repair the listed building. This photo doesn't do justice to the poor quality of the roof, but it really does have three holes in it!

So, I need to find a roofing contractor (see separate entry coming soon)

And an architect...

I also need to tackle the questions about the permissions to do the work and I have realised that the services of an architect might be a good idea; although I could do drawings and complete the forms myself, I would probably introduce delay due to my unfamiliarity with the system.  Also, I feel that a professional approach is more likely to get the council's blessing, and an architect will also be required anyway when we do the extension next year.

Consents required

The permissions required look daunting: apart from the normal planning permission and building regulations, we are in a conservation area and the building is listed.  The issue is that each of these may or may not apply to what you want to do.  Apart from engaging an architect, I think the trick is to get to know people at the council before you actually start work or even before you make an application - they like you more if you speak to them and try to follow the rules!  Locally they are very helpful and have a pragmatic view of things. For instance, before making the offer I spoke to a conservation officer who enlightened me about some things:

• If I repair EXACTLY like for like, I do not need listed building consent or any other consent, but even to remove someone's bodge and restore the building to its original state DOES need consent.  (We have a couple of ridge tiles missing and lead flashing has been used instead and strictly even this replacement will need permission to change.)
• Repair is always their preferred option, rather than complete replacement (especially do not re-point complete walls).
• "A house has to earn its keep" - they are realistic in their outlook on what you want to do, but it helps if your requests are reasonable as well!
• They like to see lime used on old buildings and hate to see cement ribbon pointing, UPVC doors/windows, plastic guttering etc being used on old buildings.
• Hence my proposed stone extension in lime met with immediate agreement as to being a good idea, despite the increase in ground area.
• There is a popular belief which is that only certain parts of a building are actually affected by listing.  This is NOT true - although it may be the case that only certain parts were the original reason for listing, once it is listed then the entire building, inside and out, and its entire plot including boundary walls, is all subject to control.
• If I want to make an access through a low wall, I won't need conservation approval as the wall is so low (I don't know the critical height) but I would need listed building consent as the wall was there when the building was listed.

Money matters

When you are made redundant at 58, you have to consider whether you really want another similar job and also whether you are likely to get one anyway.  If the answer to both these is "no" then you are effectively retired.  It has taken me some time to get used to that idea - well, just about three days actually!  There then arise two further questions: firstly, can you survive on what you have; secondly, how will you keep yourself from getting bored?  The answer to the first of these meant that we would have to leave our posh flat overlooking the Thames in London in order to forsake mortgage and service charges, in order to buy a place without a mortgage "somewhere in the country".  The second question indicated that a refurbishment project might be just the thing for me.  So we sold our flat and moved to a rented house in the heart of England in order to look for that elusive property which I would know when I saw it.

After seeing the house, I did some budgetary sums on a Post-It note.  Overall, I reckoned that it would need around £100,000 to fix this (famous last words!) and so with our own sale agreed we needed those proceeds to pay for this purchase and the refurbishment.  The asking price was obviously OTT, so we made an offer about £50k less on the afternoon of the day we looked at the house.  This was rejected but the agent played it well and a second offer was accepted.  She called to tell us but we had gone out, but we made the deduction from the tone of her voice-mail, and went to bed rejoicing.  The next morning the website showed "Sold STC" so we were quite sure (well, I was anyway) that it was ours.  Then the agent called to say that yes, our offer had been accepted BUT someone else had gone in a few minutes ago and made a higher offer, which they would have to put to the vendor.  So our hopes seemed to be cruelly dashed, and we spent the next two hours realising just how much we had actually wanted this house, and how disappointed we were not to get it.  Back to the drawing board.

Then, another phone call.  The house is (will be) ours, as the vendor had been persuaded that our position with a house already sold (STC) meant that our offer was a better one.  Great rejoicing.

Now we just have to get our previous place exchanged and completed, rather than drifting as it has for over 16 weeks (don't get me started on solicitors!).

It's all in the name

Why the "House in the Enchanted Forest"?  Wanting some early advice, I described the house to the Council's Conservation Officer: "it's the one which is set back from the road, opposite the church in the town centre, the left hand of a pair of Victorian semis".  Her immediate response was "ah, the one in the enchanted forest!"

The house as we first saw it

It was quite an appropriate description really; the right hand half of the two-storey house looks lived-in, well-maintained and loved, but the left hand half, which had attracted my interest, was anything but.  The front left hand corner of the house was covered by ivy which extended over a good deal of the front roof, but the vendors had just chopped a foot or so out of the base of this greenery, revealing stems as thick as my arms, and leaves were just starting to yellow and fall.  The front garden on the left was full of impenetrable shrubbery and trees, including laurel, fir and ash.  This extended back past the side of the house where, surprisingly, the garden widened across what should have been next door's garden.  This area was so densely covered that the far wall was not even visible, but it appeared to be perhaps 10m away from the house.  Holly, apple, pear, blackberry, buddleia and elder all mixed with vicious hawthorn and, in the distance, some species probably unknown to man.  In order to display the house to "advantage", the vendor had paid someone to go along the side of the house with a chainsaw, rather like an explorer hacking his way through the African jungle, thus permitting access to the back.

After finding this "opportunity" on a property website on a Monday evening, I tried Google maps but the aerial photo just showed a roof and lots of greenery, while Streetview did not have a discernible house at all! The next morning I looked around the outside, guessing that there was no-one resident. Externally there was evidence of poor maintenance and much damp, if that is the right word for actual holes in the slate roof. One downpipe was fractured and rainwater had been pouring down the wall; the other downpipe was intended for a water butt which had been replaced by an old and corroded galvanized cold water tank, and the water just went straight out again. Peering through the original (?) sash windows, however, showed an attractive hall and dining room with red and black floor tiles and high ceilings.

Suitably encouraged, I walked up to the market place to find the agents for more details. Before I had really grasped what I was doing, I had booked to view inside. Come Thursday morning, we were pleased to find that the interior was actually better than we had guessed. Upstairs, there's a lot of falling plaster but the floorboards seemed to be in good condition (OK, I know the joists might prove to be a disappointment); there were three good-sized bedrooms and a small bathroom as well. It was also true that you could see the sky through at least two holes in one bedroom ceiling!, but the missing plaster did show some nice riven laths, probably chestnut.

Our dream house?

Other than being listed and not detached, the house was everything that I had ever dreamed of as an old property project; we wanted somewhere stone-built in the centre of an attractive village, but with space to the side and set back from the road as we wanted off-street parking. We didn't fancy front doors opening directly into the living space - Jane likes a good hall as an entrance - nor were we too keen on small rooms with low ceilings in the typical cottage. We also wanted decent transport links, and Jane still has to travel often to London, and she likes having good shops readily available. Here we were minutes from the shops in the town centre with the station for trains to London not much further.

It was time to make up our minds and put our money where our dreams were taking us.