Wednesday August 14
Here’s something I picked up on the bus trip. It relates to many houses we saw in Ireland and Scotland, but will also apply to the villages we will be seeing tomorrow in the Cotswolds.
So as we know, houses were built from the materials at hand. Some had stacked stone walls, some woven thatch plastered with a mixture of straw, mud and dung. Yum.
As we also know, the roofs are made of thatch, sometimes with that famous Irish sod as insulation.
Anyway, as you will have seen in photos of places like Cotswolds, thatched roofs are surprisingly long lasting. You will also have noticed that the roof extended well past the wall. This helped to keep the rain off the wall, which are more likely to erode. No leaky homes back then, matey. Well, yes, but not for the stupid design reasons we have seen in recent years.
Anyway, back in the day, when it rained (Hello. When doesn’t it?), people would often duck under the eaves of somebody’s house, to escape the downpour. It appears that your nosey neighbour would take this opportunity to hide from the rain under your eaves. It was also a good time to listen in on what you’re up to. Remember the (non-block) walls were thin, and offered little privacy. This led to the creation of the term “eaves-dropping”.
Here’s another one. For convenience, these more built up area have the buildings quite close together. This, in conjunction with the wide eaves, gave people the opportunity to come home without too much exposure to the elements. Just duck from one eave to the next, trying not to listen to conversations along the way.
While the houses made from bog and thatch are a pretty good weather protection for the family that built it or who live in it, they are also good homes for our more rodentish neighbours. Particularly in villages, towns and the poorer parts of cities, where these dwellings could be found. For this reason, people tended to have pet cats or dogs who could rid the houses of these pests. Definitely earning their keep, often racing around on the thatch roofs, and even jumping from one roof to the next while in hot pursuit of their dinner.
So on these regular wet days, it seems that the thatch becomes slippery. Not a concern to you, but your favourite rat-catcher might beg to differ. It would not be unusual to see a neighbourhood pet careening off a building into a pile on the ground. Guess what. This is where the term “raining cats and dogs” came from.
Just one more lie to finish.
Problem:
On some of the more windswept locations (and there are many), the standard thatch roof would get blown off on a regular basis.
Clever solution:
These are normally fishermen in coastal location, who have access to fishing nets. They simply use or make one that fits over the house. Just like your gran’s hairnet.
Cleverer solution:
So that the house’s hairnet doesn’t get blown away as well, simply weight it down all the way around. With rocks.
Looks like a combination of a bad Beatles wig and an Aussie outback hat.
Here’s something I picked up on the bus trip. It relates to many houses we saw in Ireland and Scotland, but will also apply to the villages we will be seeing tomorrow in the Cotswolds.
So as we know, houses were built from the materials at hand. Some had stacked stone walls, some woven thatch plastered with a mixture of straw, mud and dung. Yum.
As we also know, the roofs are made of thatch, sometimes with that famous Irish sod as insulation.
Anyway, as you will have seen in photos of places like Cotswolds, thatched roofs are surprisingly long lasting. You will also have noticed that the roof extended well past the wall. This helped to keep the rain off the wall, which are more likely to erode. No leaky homes back then, matey. Well, yes, but not for the stupid design reasons we have seen in recent years.
Anyway, back in the day, when it rained (Hello. When doesn’t it?), people would often duck under the eaves of somebody’s house, to escape the downpour. It appears that your nosey neighbour would take this opportunity to hide from the rain under your eaves. It was also a good time to listen in on what you’re up to. Remember the (non-block) walls were thin, and offered little privacy. This led to the creation of the term “eaves-dropping”.
Here’s another one. For convenience, these more built up area have the buildings quite close together. This, in conjunction with the wide eaves, gave people the opportunity to come home without too much exposure to the elements. Just duck from one eave to the next, trying not to listen to conversations along the way.
While the houses made from bog and thatch are a pretty good weather protection for the family that built it or who live in it, they are also good homes for our more rodentish neighbours. Particularly in villages, towns and the poorer parts of cities, where these dwellings could be found. For this reason, people tended to have pet cats or dogs who could rid the houses of these pests. Definitely earning their keep, often racing around on the thatch roofs, and even jumping from one roof to the next while in hot pursuit of their dinner.
So on these regular wet days, it seems that the thatch becomes slippery. Not a concern to you, but your favourite rat-catcher might beg to differ. It would not be unusual to see a neighbourhood pet careening off a building into a pile on the ground. Guess what. This is where the term “raining cats and dogs” came from.
Just one more lie to finish.
Problem:
On some of the more windswept locations (and there are many), the standard thatch roof would get blown off on a regular basis.
Clever solution:
These are normally fishermen in coastal location, who have access to fishing nets. They simply use or make one that fits over the house. Just like your gran’s hairnet.
Cleverer solution:
So that the house’s hairnet doesn’t get blown away as well, simply weight it down all the way around. With rocks.
Looks like a combination of a bad Beatles wig and an Aussie outback hat.
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