Another day listening to Graham up in the lofts, laying insulation roll by roll, side by side, moving from the front of the house towards the back. The whole of the ‘ground floor’ is done now, leaving only two sides of the ‘upper floor’ to be done. In terms of area, very little. In terms of difficulty, a gruesome task, working in very cramped conditions.
An American architect friend of Graham’s on an online group recommended he partition off those sections and then call in a ‘specialist’ to ‘blow’ the voids full with insulation. Graham, who’d researched this as an option, pointed out that this would effectively seal the roof timbers in an unventilated and potentially damp environment, perfect for generating rot. He’s not heard anything on the subject since. Or any other, seemingly.
Already the warmth has crept into the inner leaf of the masonry walls, creating a heat-bank that generates a steady-state warmth and humidity in the house, making my joints feel they’ve gorn orf on holiday. Wonderful.
For a blessed ten or fifteen minutes around noon the sun came out and filled the house with blazing yellow-white light. We were sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea during one of Graham’s infrequent rests.
“Oh, glory be,” I said.
“Oh, what a poifec’ day,” Graham sang.
“They did a song about that, I think.”
“Of course they did, you silly old sausage.”
“Less of the sausage, if you don’t mind.”
We had that flash of sun too and it felt like Spring
Sun been out all day here.
Our house has the front part partitioned off, think a space may be at top don’t remember. For that reason we had to have blown in insulation through the roof vent. Besides the original is loose insulation. Wil had no desire to roll any where someone could get.
blown settles.
I know what the architect means, as that is what was done to our old house before we bought. The question is how tight it is when the insulation is blown in—-if it is totally sealed with insulation, then supposedly no moisture could ever enter and I hope to Gawd that’s true….
I think Graham knows his stuff.
Ventilation you must have, or rot you will get.
I know that feeling, when you have been cold, chilled, damp clear through, even though bundled up in winter wools. And then the blessed heat, soaking through the layers, flooding the body with warm radiation. Isn’t it glorious?
I am so happy for you
What’s that lovely Welsh word, Cwtch? Wonderful!