What is my favourite bit of a house?
I admit to appreciating a nice bit of brickwork on a chimney stack, the subtle corbelling of courses at the top of a main wall, a classic brick bond pattern, some dressed stonework forming a header over a window or a door (with or without a Yorkshire Rose motif) , an authentic sash cord operated window, a slate bed damp course and fancy church window shaped airbricks.
However, if pushed to commit to an answer I would definitely opt for the roof space, loft, cockloft, roof void, attic or many of the other names for that interesting area.
If not developed into a habitable room or boarded out for hobbies or storage the aforementioned void can act as a bit of a time capsule hearkening back to the original period of construction.
I have come across some great details when those dark, dusty and cobweb bedecked spaces have become fleetingly illuminated by my torch.
Rustic poles forming the main structural support for an old roof can often be found, defying all principles of modern engineering. Straight from the tree these rough hewn boughs have assumed the loadings of the roof plus a couple of centuries of wind, rain and snow with the barest minimum of complaint and deflection.
Willow laths were used to underdraw old clay pantile roofs and these have also proven to be durable in spite of attack by rot, devay and insect.
The more substantial roof structures in post trusses are beautifully crafted and assembled and I have sometimes been known to follow the trail of carved Roman Numerals etched into the wood by the joiners as they re-assembled, on site ,the framework from an earlier dry run in their workshop.
Skilfully crafted joints and inserted dowel pegs are a joy to behold in their simplicity.
The sizing of timbers is interesting from obviously over-engineered rafters, purlins and collars from the 19th century through to the latest computer designed factory formed trusses where the slimmest profile of timbers are specified with no human involvement.
A few builders and roofers have left their mark with scratched initials and a date on the party wall or chimney breast- a good proportion of these in my home city being testament to the 1940's repair work required during the devastating blitz of wartime.
It is therefore understandable how I can get quite excited over the prospect of a good roof space over even the most mundane of properties.
I was therefore a bit disappointed this week when a loft hatch, anticipated to reveal a sturdy Post War Corporation Specification roof framework instead opened out onto, well, just a mess of seemingly random items.
Instead of an arrangement of wood and underfelt I was confronted by the sight of bamboo poles, green tying up string, various electrically operated fans, high intensity heat bulbs and a twisting network of shiny truncated metallic foil ducting.
These loft installed things did explain a few unusual features in the rooms of the house below.
Ceilings in the ground floor and first floor rooms had been very untidy with roughly applied patches which I initially attributed to some very poor wallpapering skills. There was a lot of hollow soundings to walls which I thought might be a crude attempt to soundproof onto the adjoining property which was in occupation as flats and therefore potentially noisy.
The house, I had been told was occupied by tenants but after having been let in by "a friend of a friend" as he described himself there were only the barest signs of habitation, a bed without legs, a solitary chair, albeit a bounteous supply of Pot Noodles and an overriding odour of fustiness and moisture.
I am the sort of person who has experienced just about everything after 30 years of working in the property sector. I have an open mind when coming across lifestyles, personal practices, domestic arrangements, differing attitudes to domestic cleanliness and hygiene.
I like to think the best of people and especially as I may only spend say 30 minutes in their house in the context of the whole of their lives.
With both feet firmly planted on the top rungs of my ladder and beholding that strange assortment of seemingly random objects I realised that I had come across my first proper roof space drug cultivation project, either shortly to commence or being wound up after the harvest.
I had a quick glance through my legs, down the stairwell to see where the casual acquaintance of the occupier had got to but perhaps he was not aware, after all, of the cottage industry in the making.
I recalled a colleague in Scotland who had reported to the Police his finding of a large block of cannabis resin in a loft. His public spirited act gave him an all over warm feeling until he remembered that he had left his business card on a table in the hallway. I refused to walk next to him or take a ride in his car for some time after.....just in case.
I slid the grubby hatch cover back into position and made what I thought was a swift but reasonably nonchalant and dignified exit from the property.
That could have been the best roof of the week.... but I would never know.
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| A typical 1950's Corporation Roof.................... |
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