Unfinished. awaiting pictures
Well, I think it’s time to start another newsletter. Winter puts a bit of a cramp on outdoor activities and there are only so many kitten videos I can watch at one sitting. Writing newsletters is less of an eye strain because most of the time I’m watching the keyboard and making sure the right letters go down in the right order. I never really tried to get into touch typing although I've noticed my fingers seem to approximate anyway but while they go fairly accurately to the right keys it would come out as garbage if I didn’t watch. Of course that doesn’t mean you’ll get anything dissimilar to garbage anyway, but that’s the editor not the compositor.
Activities continue meanwhile in the refurbishing of 93 Crosswood and general work on Loanhead Farm. Tasks are currently painting and decorating (which I let Andy get on with) and building a fire wall more accurately called an adjoining property party wall since it wouldn't do much to stop a fire. What they do is block the air-flow in the event of a fire so that the flames don't simply blast straight through into any connected space. Otherwise, most of the roof above the plaster ceiling is timber and fire would get from one part of the attic to the others quite easily. The barrier should stop or at least slow the fire from spreading. Long enough to allow survival and perhaps long enough for the fire brigade to extinguish it. Scottish properties usually have sarking which is a layer of reasonably thin planks over which there should be a vapour barrier and then the slates or battens and tiles. Although the roof is far from air-tight the slates are quite close fitting and the structure less vulnerable than thatch. The farmhouse I was born in had clay tiles hung without sarking, on battens which was probably the longest lived roof covering and easily repaired. I’d guess a milder climate would allow that, but one of my few memories of my first 5 years is powder snow on the blanket or quilt (eiderdown then I think) where the wind blew it between the tiles. Sarking blocks most of the wind and is rarely bone dry so it is probably better as a retardant as, like the fire barrier the air flow is reduced. Fortunately the insulation materials generally have combustion retardant characteristics, although polystyrene usually did not. I believe that product is now banned or at least sealed away under concrete. Building materials are always changing, although most are still variations on sticks (timber, lumber, carpentry and chipboard) and dried mud (concrete, plasterboard, brick) so even houses, given time, become out-dated or simply worn out. Old designs and materials become inappropriate. Asbestos for instance and most chimney stacks, being replaced with rockwool and double skin insulated flues.
They say a slate roof will last 100 years, my problem being that Tarbraxian slate roofs were constructed 110 or 120 years ago. Toughened glass plates with stainless or copper nails would probably last longest, but would be very expansive and heavy. Overall I’m beginning to think about solar panels as an alternative to tiles or slates. Glass and aluminium with stainless fittings. They wouldn’t last forever but can be recycled with minimal loss, generate electricity and are easy to clean. The current, and original I think, roof on 93 Crosswood will probably need replacing in a few years, but with a bit of luck my finances will have recovered and I’ll be able to put in some inset solar panels. They go in plastic trays so they become part of the roof rather than sit on top of it. That reduces costs, wind noise and prevents pigeons. They should work better if warm (but not hot),… I’m not sure about heat-loss and insulation. More research required. Ideally at that point I would add light pipes to brighten the inside rooms and a small Velux type window. There are only two rooms and a kitchen. I think they were built for the ordinary shale miners but being single bedroom, less suitable for large families. At the time of building the lofts were unoccupied, completely ignored, being used only for cold water tanks. In the larger cottages a lodger or two could be accommodated in the roof space as was the case in our own home’s earlier period. The ‘room-in-roof’ solved the problem of how to house single men at the same time as controlling their behaviour. Noisy and annoying lodgers wouldn’t get the same assistance in food and laundry that the miner’s wife downstairs could offer. The back to back houses originally lacked bathrooms and toilets. They were smaller but must have had other characteristics unknown to me that precluded lodgers in the loft but in practice the back to back house attics were just dead space. Accessed by a hatch and presumably a ladder they were un-floored, lacking heat and light for 100 years. With the aid of folding loft ladders and chipboard flooring they are gradually being converted and can add ⅓ of the house space just by raising the roof ties by 18”. They cannot easily be used for accommodation but are good for storage once the opportunity to bang your head is reduced. None I’ve seen have proper stairs though, which would make them 2 story houses which might conflict with planning regulations. The sky is starting to look a little like it might snow, so I’ll go and get some logs in. The cat and Fiona also like the extra warmth, and it helps if the snow should bring the power-lines down. I’m glad to say that hasn’t happened in a while now, but getting complacent is the surest way of causing it.
It did snow, although this is a day or so later. That snow just sprinkled and melted. A good excuse for a fire though. I said to Fiona about an hour ago that the small amount of sleet was unlikely to settle at 2° (the degrees symbol [°] I found again [shift-option-8] on the Mac Keyboard, having lost it for a few months). Being a bit cold outside I had a go at fixing a few indoor things. By the time I had disassembled a kettle and a LED wall light there were snow-flakes the size of silver dollars settling on the car outside. Fortunately Fiona had not taken my weather forecast seriously and had stayed indoors.
Silver dollars LED lights and kettles; well I collect silver dollars (I now have two) and (incidentally) will welcome any others. The kettle was repaired (broken wire on the neutral connection) and returned to the farm. Other fixing of things...The LED light had been on the outside of the tractor shed and disconnected for some years. I found the light worked but the sensor didn’t so I may have to find a new use for it. New ones are £12 so there’s a limit to how much refurbishment it is worth. I’ve been meaning to put a daylight sensor in conjunction with the timer on the farm building. As it is I have to keep changing the timer. Here 55° North the days vary in length, from 7 to 17 hours of light. Daylight sensors can be wired in quite easily, so it’ll come on if it is dark and inside a set period of time. I feel movement detectors are over-rated, our outside house light has daylight and movement sensors and is endlessly being turned on by neighbourhood cats. Still, it is useful to illuminate visitors and our own arrival. There are closed circuit cameras to provide a record of unusual events (like visiting dogs that chase our cats) and deliveries. Slightly concerning is the unknown visitor who cut two of the four camera cables, unfortunately I hadn’t checked the footage and it was overwritten. The next ones will be less accessible and have longer memory storage. I can only assume the perpetrator was fairly dim, as there will have been a record of the action for a week or so. I’m hoping the next system will have a tamper alarm. Somebody didn’t want them watching, so presumably they are worthwhile. As crime statistics go this area is pretty quiet and I only set the cameras up for insurance purposes.
On a different subject entirely; as a child I fell out of several windows and trees. No great damage was incurred, but although each was an unpleasant few minutes. I don’t know if that was what gave rise to a general feeling of fear whenever I am subject to heights above ten or twelve feet. Fortunately the effect has only been for the last few decades of this lifetime. It seems to be common in chaps of my age. I call it acrophobia as there’s no dizziness and it’s a bit more complicated than a simple fear of falling. Aircraft and stepping stones don’t have the effect, bridges and mountains do. Swimming pools and harbour walls don’t, which is odd because I’ve only died from swimming pool falls as far as I can remember.
Happily, if a fear of heights is generally thought irrational, I don’t have any other irrational fears. I still question the rationality of people who stand on cliff edges and jump out of aeroplanes. I exclude my wife from this analysis because although she likes doing both of those, and strangely doesn't like stepping stones. I don’t want to upset a stable relationship. I know rational people who are afraid of mice, earwigs, balloons and public speaking; none of which bother me, so I’m prepared to say that irrational fears do not an irrational person make.
I have noticed that I use a slightly old fashioned speech pattern. Archaic expressions may lend authority, but more importantly, until the listener has worked out the meaning, give the speaker a second or two of lead time. Very important for those of us who can get distracted in the middle of a sentence. That's not to say that others agree, and perhaps just wait patiently while I get to the point.