The moment our ruin became our house.

There are no words to describe the feeling of walking into a covered house when you have gotten used to sky in the parlour. We had been there every step of the way with the roof coming off and then going back on again, but it still makes my heart skip when I think of the day we saw rooms inside. It made us aware that we hadn’t realised the sizes of the spaces we had. The house took on a whole new personality almost, and it all felt possible once again.

We had managed to get the roof on before the winter set in, so we made temporary plastic covers for the windows so that there could be air circulation and still keep some of the elements out to begin the long process of drying the walls out. It seems accepted that it takes about a year per foot of wall thickness to dry, so we were looking at two years before we could really think about moving in. There was plenty to be getting on with however, so we began the lists of stuff to research, to buy, to do. Boredom would not be a problem!

It must have been pretty drafty even before the holes!!!

Roof shenanigans..

We had been advised, and it made sense to us, that the only way to make a roof properly work on an old building like this was to copy the original way of doing it. No concrete ring beams. However, as we need all the space in the roof as rooms as well, we were also unable to use collar ties.

Somehow I have lost the photographs I know I took of the roof.. they are likely to be filed carefully somewhere. With this I will post the last pictures of the original post, and the first ones I can find of after. There is a simply massive task missing the visual aid so I will try to give you an idea.

Pat built up the wall plates, ready for the roof. Unfortunately the guys we had to put the roof on, were not familiar with the traditional Irish roof system, and decided that the timbers had to go into the wall plates and that the stone should be built up around them, so proceeded to knock all the top stones off – we later found out this was not the case. There was many a steep learning curve! So, poor long suffering Pat came back and built up the wall plates for a second time.

We invested in three very hefty reclaimed timbers as ridge beams, with what felt like massive rafters every 30cm, each one measured and cut to fit the wall plates individually. Some of the off-cuts were like carvings. beautifully shaped to match the granite. I can see how it looked to be too much work to do it this way around, but it is the only way it works.

Onto the million rafters went a 60mm layer of ‘Gutex” sarking board. It is water-bonded fibreboard, with a great insulation and soundproofing value. There is a whole other story about a mad woman driving hundreds of miles around Donegal and Co Derry one saturday morning with a car full of kids to find enough fixings to attach the bloody stuff to the roof. As I said, many a steep learning curve! Over the gutex, is a layer of membrane, with tile batons and the the reclaimed slates.

And finally… VICTORY!

We had found the floor. A mixture of flagstones and earth. Typical of the animal byre, with the wee channel for the pee to soak away into. 

Blogging again!

After a long period where creative energies have been channelled into my artwork I am going to try and get blogging again.. partly as I so enjoyed reconnecting to our adventure, and partly because I really want to get the photos and story up to date so I can share where we are and where we would like to go in the future. I know there are a whole pile of like minded folks out there and who knows where this network of peeps will lead??!!

So, back to where the floor fell in… I was thinking about the interesting coincidence that I stopped writing about our project when I got to the part which I think I found the hardest. It felt huge. We had an enormous mess in a wreck of a house, four small children and a crashing economy.

Sean, in true hero style, single handedly pulled all the wood out, which left a huge pile of sheep manure to be dug out by hand. It did however take us several months to steel ourselves before we could effectively start that digging process. Thank goodness for a friend of ours coming and helping. With Sean, Rohan (at the age of 3) and Ken on the case we began to see a dent being made in the huge pile.

You have to imagine, shovels and wheelbarrows, and the destined home for the manure is down the hill from the house in the next field where it will become a vegetable bed. (more on that later!) Days and days of hard graft from everyone around, but no one did quite as much as those three… thank you fellas!

Still here….!

Will get more posts up over the dark time of year.. so much else to do in the Donegal summer time!! 🙂

Unfortunately,

As the floor caved in, the joists which were buried in the wall popped a large number of important looking stones out from their home next to the window.
This was the first experience we had of these potential ‘run away costs’ everyone talks about in renovation projects. Looking at it with the untrained eye we had no idea if the rest of the wall above was about to fall in or if we would have to look at taking the whole thing down to wall plate height and rebuild one end of the house. It was with shaking hands we called Pat Harkin, a highly recommended local stone mason and complete super-hero. if it weren’t for Mr Harkin, this house would not be what it is today… Thank you Pat, biggest fans right here!!!

http://www.phbuildingrestorations.com/

And the bottom door…

And then the floor fell in…

Upstairs in the bottom end the floor had been a little bouncy since we found the place, so it was off limits to all but the bravest. Then one peaceful afternoon in June the sheep poo upstairs joined the poo downstairs!