Many older homes have walk-up attics, which means they have permanent, stable stair assemblies, no different than stairs between floors. Unfinished attics typically don’t have hand railings on these staircases; another concern is the lack of a guardrail around the top of the stairwell. With arms full of boxes of holiday decorations, you can easily miscalculate a step backwards and fall into the opening in the attic floor.

attic stairs

Less common in older homes are pull-down stairs. We should really call them pull-down ladders. They’re quite steep, and you should be facing toward the treads when descending, just like with a ladder. Moving items into, or out of, the attic with these attic ladders is typically a 2-person job, with one person handing items to the other. You need both hands free to hold on when going up and down, again, just like on a ladder.

I rarely find these assemblies installed correctly. At the top of the stairs, there are 2 steel plates where the springs and top stair hinges attach. There are holes in these plates where large nails should be driven to properly secure the stair frame to the attic framing. Some manufacturers even stick on labels that tell homeowners to drive 12d nails through these holes. I often find them empty. Some have cheap, black drywall screws securing the stair assembly. These screws can shear off with little force. A dozen of these screws barely holds up drywall, much less a 250 lb. hubby shoving a trunk of books into the attic.

When pull-down stairs are installed, the bottom of the folding stringers (vertical ladder rails) needs to be trimmed at the proper length so the stringers rest flush on the floor. This also eliminates gaps where the folding stringer sections meet. When there are gaps, there is extra strain on the hinges and bolts.

attic stairs hinge

Before each use, check to be sure all the nuts and bolts are tight (I’m no longer surprised at how many nuts are loose or missing). Check the treads and stringers for cracks and breaks, and be sure both springs and treads are secure.

After many years of pulling down these stairs in other peoples’ homes, I learned one other safety tip: don’t stand directly below the stair assembly when opening. Hard, heavy, stored objects can topple over onto the stairs and plummet rapidly toward the head of the next person considering heading up to the attic.

No, the title of this entry has nothing to do with labor unions or strike-breaking; it deals with old house terminology.  We in the trade use (or have used) expressions that have been employed for decades, if not centuries, and many of them are puzzling to civilians.

Let’s say you’ve got a structural board, either a rafter or a joist, and it’s cracked or rotten, and needs replacement.  Because it’s nailed snuggly in place between the plates or sills, removing it is unfeasible, so you cut an identically shaped board and either nail it or bolt it to the older, weaker one, creating a stronger timber.

If you’re a true nail-banger, you call this scabbing onto the old board; I’ve heard the term sistering used, but that’s got more than a touch of Olde Yankee to it. It’s kind of like folks who say “Clabbahd” instead of Clapboard.  Unless your family has lived in Maine or Vermont for five generations, it’s kind of pretentious.

An aside: deliver me from the Yankee Carpenter Wannabe…you know the type; he has a set of handmade screwdrivers that cost more than my first car, and they’ve never been pulled out of their unbleached canvas carrying pouch. His workshop is perfectly arranged, because he never actually does any work; he just likes to know it’s there. This guy would die if he ever had to frame a roof in January.

There are other old house words, some made archaic by time, others eliminated through protocol:  do you know what that short stud over a door or window is traditionally called?  A cripple.  I wouldn’t use that term, especially in the rather politically correct town of Armrest, Massachusetts where I live, where even the general contractors drive Prius’ with ladder racks.

I just wrote a piece for another publication about nipples and hickeys; these items fall under the auspices of Things Electrical.  Nipples are the short, threaded pieces of pipe that protrude from a wall or ceiling to which one attaches a lighting fixture.  Hickeys are the double-female threaded couplings that connect two nipples.

Really.

And then there’s scarfing.  It has nothing to do with eating a lot of food quickly or auto-erotic-asphyxiation (just don’t ask, okay?).  Scarfing is a way to “stretch” a board:  Let’s say you’ve got to span a distance of 12 feet, and you’ve only got 8 foot boards, so you splice them with a gently tapering diagonal joint.  It holds up just fine and you sound so butch as you strain your morning coffee grounds through your teeth muttering, “Yeah, we scarfed those bastards right up.”

Those who have rattled through many an 18th and early 19th century house will hear the term “summer beam” mentioned. It has nothing to do with the season; they didn’t replace it with every solstice or equinox. The summer beam is the primary horizontal timber that runs parallel to the roof ridge. Its name is derived from the French word sommier, which means, strangely enough, cross-beam.

Animals parts figure prominently in our lexicon: bird’s-mouth and lamb’s-tongue are two examples. The former is a large notch cut in the end of a structural timber, typically a rafter, allowing it to receive another framing element, like the plate, to which it is then nailed.  A lamb’s-tongue is a decorative carving executed at the end of a chamfer on a post.  Another phrase some of us use is Elephant Prints.  This occurs when someone with poor aim misses the board or sheetrock while hammering, leaving perfectly round divots in the material, as if a tiny elephant had just plodded across their work surface.  We grumble that this person “hammers like lightning” for he never hits in the same place twice…

The glossary goes on, and I’m sure there’s dozens of entries I’ve neglected; I just thought of a few that can be printed; feel free to send your favorites in, along with their meaning.

Dan Cooper writes for many architecture and antiques magazines, and is currently finishing a book on the architecture of Albert, Righter and Tittmann, to be published by The Vendome Press in the fall of 2009.  He is also president of Cooper’s Cottage Lace, LLC and is the United States representative of Enterprise Weaving Ltd., an English firm that specializes in historic Wilton and Brussels carpets.

In response to an e-mail, you were kind enough to explain how to best insulate our old house attic. We are now seriously considering finishing the attic. I’m guessing this would change how to insulate. Would we just put the insulation between the roof rafters, or am I missing something? If you have time, I would really appreciate some guidance.

Finishing an attic seems straight forward and simple, but there are some things to consider. Planning ahead, research, and correctly installing materials can help make an attic into comfortable extra living space.

Attic spaces are typically very hot in the summer and very cold through the winter. Without properly insulating, your finished attic room will also be cold in the winter. Without properly ventilating the roof, your finished space can be just as unpleasant as an unfinished attic. Since parts of a finished attic are usually very close to the roof, insulation often blocks proper ventilation that is needed under a roof structure.

Ventilation
The best method for ventilating any roof is to have some type of venting up high on the roof that allows for rising hot air or warm/damp air to escape. For this to be fully effective, low vents should be installed to replace the air that is escaping. Continuous ridge vents and soffit vents are often the most effective, but it’s best to have an experienced professional evaluate to determine the best method.

Insulation
I suggest designing the walls and ceilings to minimize the area where insulation behind these surfaces is near the roof as this can restrict air movement.

1. The area near where the roof rafters meet the floor doesn’t have much clearance so “knee walls” are often constructed. The area behind these walls is often used for storage of seasonal items and luggage.
2. Instead of the ceiling following the slope of the roof all the way to the peak, a flat ceiling can be easily installed by attaching joists horizontally across pairs of rafters.

Both of the above creates some spaces where a good amount of insulation can be installed and areas are created for ventilating under the roof. These spaces aren’t really useable in a room anyway.

Where insulation will have to be installed between the roof rafters, “baffles” should be installed first. Baffles hold the insulation away from the underside of the roof decking, creating a channel for air movement.

Finished Attic

What would have been here?

Is your sidewalk the same age as your house? If you own a home that pre-dates the Civil War, probably not. According to primary documents from the early nineteenth century, it looks like the most common material for sidewalks in America was mud. In other words, there’s much more written in the form of complaints about unpaved walks than descriptions of hard surfaces.

There’s also very little physical evidence remaining of early walks. Materials eventually deteriorate and get replaced. Installation of modern, in-ground utilities can destroy early hardscapes. At the end of the 19th century, concrete was found to be ideal for paving. It was a lower cost material so it was common to use for replacement of original surfaces.

The Earliest Paving
From what I can gather, it seems that creating paved surfaces for foot traffic preceded the paving of roads. The earliest demand for dry walks seems to be in urbanized areas. Wood seems to have been the most common paving in the 18th and early 19th century. I’ve seen drawings and prints showing what can only be rough-cut boards installed between dirt roads and more formal homes. They’re laid both end-to-end and edge-to-edge, with the latter appearing in more formal or urban areas. What we see in the movie westerns is probably pretty close.

There are some other materials that were used to create pedestrian-friendly paths that weren’t impervious. In some areas, archaeological evidence suggests the use of small, aggregate-like sand, gravel, small river pebbles, and even oyster shells. This, of course, is limited by what resources were available locally.

Brick
Brick was also used for sidewalks throughout the 18th and 19th centuries. Some have stated that it was limited to east coast colonial cities and upscale neighborhoods. There may be some truth to that for the 18th century, but there is plenty of documentation that it was used in towns and cities across the country in the 19th century.

Most original hand-made brick walks haven’t survived beyond 200 years. This is partly due to changes I’ve described above as well as to a glazed surface that can erode quickly. Brick is the most common material chosen for sidewalks when there have been preservation efforts in historic districts.

Stone
Cobblestone seems to have been readily available to many cities. Many people think it’s only suitable for streets and not for regular foot traffic. I’ve viewed many photographs from the late 19th century that show many American cities used it for paving walks as well.

Sandstone was also used for sidewalks, but it seems to be limited to mostly larger cities and very expensive late Victorian era homes. Limestone and granite can also be found in some rare instances.

In my area, not far from the PA slate belt, a few towns used large slabs of slate. Unfortunately, not only do changes occur, tree roots mature and lift the slabs, resulting in their replacement to reduce liability. Most of the remaining sections of slate walks will likely disappear in my lifetime.

How to Choose

• I suggest first checking with your local municipal government. There might be public records listing what was installed and when
• A local historic society or library just might have old photographs or other record that shows what was likely present at one point in time
• “Checking out the neighborhood” might just reveal a section of old sidewalk still present

The design of the new “old” sidewalk should incorporate features that make it quite durable to your region’s environment, should be accessible, and should be safe for all intended traffic (the original pedestrians on those historic sidewalks probably didn’t wear those spiky-heal shoes and in-line skates). I also think it’s important to select a material that’s a compliment, not a distraction, to the historic character of your home.

I was searching for information about stone foundations, and came across your article. We have a very old bank barn with the lower level divided into stalls. The stone foundation doesn’t have the mortar coating you describe, but some remaining white paint. It’s the same paint that’s on the beams and boards above. Can we just repaint, or do we need to apply a mortar coating?  What type of paint should we use?  Thanks.

In my experience, whitewash was very common on the interior of barns and other old building foundations. It has also been used on other interior walls and was commonly used to brighten up the interiors of fireplaces. The exteriors of entire barns, other outbuildings and even some historic homes have also been treated with whitewash. I remember reading that it was once applied to the fence of Tom Sawyer’s Aunt Polly.

Whitewash is really a limewash (lime and water) with an additional ingredient like chalk, glue, or flour. There have been many recipes throughout history that include other additives. Adding linseed oil, milk, or egg may be an attempt to make the coating perform more like paint. Adding Portland cement may be for better adhesion or to reduce permeability. I’m not sure why some recipes call for mixing with salt, alum, flour, molasses, or urine. Earth pigments, brick and coal dust, and even animal blood have been known to be used to tint the coating. I’ve never tried anything but the two basic ingredients of limewash.

Limewash and whitewash has been applied to stone and brick walls, rendered (stucco coated) buildings, wood siding, logs, plaster and adobe. Its widespread use can be primarily attributed to its availability and low cost, but there are other benefits. It’s nontoxic to people and animals and has no noxious fumes–unless you add something nasty to the mix. It’s breathable, allowing damaging moisture vapor to escape easily from old building products. It also reflects light very well due to the calcite crystals that form. This is probably why it was applied to so many dimly lit interiors of farm buildings and old basements.

I received an e-mail from a homeowner concerned that his attic might have asbestos insulation.  A home inspector pointed out that the insulation behind the upstairs knee-walls is called “something wool”.  It’s old, dirty and fibrous and the inspector told him that it should be tested for asbestos fibers.

Mineral Wool Insulation

“Balsam wool” is a shredded wood product, treated with borax as a fire-retardant.  It’s considered a very natural product and does not contain asbestos.

Rock wool is made from mineral fibers manufactured from stone and waste from mining . It consists of aluminum silicate rock (basalt), furnace slag and limestone or dolomite.

Slag wool is produced mainly from blast furnace slag with some natural stone.

The term for both types of this fibrous insulation is mineral wool.  Mineral wool was the most common thermal insulation for residential use until the 1960’s, when fiberglass insulation become the standard.  The raw materials are melted in furnaces and blown with air or steam over spinning drums or a centrifuge to create the fibers (picture making cotton candy).

Balsam Wool

Asbestos is a naturally occurring fiber that is mined.  Since mineral wool is a man-made fiber, it does not contain asbestos.  I’ve read about mineral wool, asbestos and resins mixed together to manufacture a couple specific industrial insulating products, but it’s not likely the kind of stuff used for residential insulation.

Other Insulation

There is one type of  older insulation that has a significant possibility of being contaminated with asbestos.  That is the loose, granular insulation called vermiculite. See this article on vermiculite and asbestos for more information.

Fiberglass and cellulose are the most common insulation installed in residential attics today.  I have never read or heard of either containing any asbestos fibers.

Rock Wool

Other than vermiculite, it’s actually quite rare to find thermal insulation in residential attics that contains asbestos.  In those rare cases, the asbestos containing materials used for insulation were manufactured for some other purpose.  It was likely brought home from work at a factory or salvaged from some other type of building.  I heard one story of a worker at a ship-yard bringing the stuff home regularly and stuffing his attic full.

In the US, more than 500,000 people a year are treated for ladder related injuries, according to the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons.  Of those injuries, about 300 people die.  I’m up on some type of a ladder almost every day so I’d like to pass along just a few tips. Since it’s gutter cleaning season, I’ll focus on the tall extension ladders.

Select the right ladder

Ladders have a duty rating from the American National Standards Institute.  This rating includes the maximum weight it’s designed to handle, which includes the user, material and tools.

Type III: light duty - up to 200 lbs
Type II: medium Duty - up to 225 lbs
Type I: Heavy Duty - up to 250 lbs
Type I-A: Extra Heavy Duty - up to 300 lbs*
Type I-AA: Special Duty - up to 375 lbs*

* If you and your load are getting close to or above 300 lbs, consider renting a lift.

Inspect Before Each Use

• Check all bolts and rivets

• Be sure the rungs are clean

• Be sure the feet are secure and the rubber soles will grip

• Check the rails and rungs for cracks or other damage

• Check the movement and springs of the rung locks

• Check the rope for fraying

• Check the operation of the pulley

• Check aluminum ladders for burrs - wood and fiberglass for splinters

Setting a Ladder

First, read the labels on the ladder.  Second, watch out for overhead electric wires.

The most frequent injuries to inspectors is from setting the ladder on slippery decks, patios or walks.  I look for level, dry, compacted soil.  If there’s mulch, I’ll scrape it away.  If your house is on a slope, install adjustable levelers at the base of your ladder.

Getting the angle of the ladder is important.  Too steep and it could tip back.  Too low of a slope and it could kick out.  The ladder should be set 1 foot out for every 4 feet in height.  With your toes touching the feet of the ladder, hold out your arms straight.  Your finger tips should just touch the rails.

Working from a Ladder

Don’t wear slippery or muddy shoes.  Use both hands while climbing or descending.  If your project involves using both hands, it shouldn’t be done from a ladder – one hand always needs to be holding on.  Always stay centered.  Don’t reach or lean to the sides.

If you need to climb onto a roof, the ladder should extend above the roof edge by at least three rungs.  Strap or clamp the ladder securely to the roof edge or gutter.  Always step on or off the roof using a rung well below the point where the ladder meets the edge.

Stepping above the edge and the bottom of the ladder can kick out.

Unless you have the right equipment, never set a ladder on a roof to get to a higher roof.  Finally, never leave a ladder up unattended.

Never heard of a pent roof? That’s okay, my spell check doesn’t even recognize it.  They were rather common on the early homes around my area.  Now they’re almost extinct.

A pent roof is a small single-slope roof that is attached to a house just above the first floor’s windows and doors.  Although some describe it as a small porch roof, it’s self supporting, without posts, columns or brackets.  As an architectural detail, it creates a visual division between the first and second floor but it also has a purpose.  It sheds water away from the home’s foundation and main level windows and doors (the main roof dumps a lot of water when there’s no gutters).  It also shades windows from direct sun, like a modern awning.

Most common on homes built between 1700 and 1830, they were often on just the facade, but some early homes could have them wrapped all the way around.  Some were very basic and simple, just containing the necessary structural materials.  On more formal and styled homes, there could be ornate mouldings, often imitating the details on the main roof eaves.

Most original pent roofs are long gone and current owners of homes that originally sported one never knew of their presence.  If you’re specifically looking for evidence, there’s often some clues that one was once there.  On masonry homes, there’s often filled-in “pockets” from where the joists of the pent roof once protruded out from the wall.  Stone and brick homes might also have a “drip course” – a protruding horizontal line of masonry that would be where the top of the roof attached to the house.  There might also be a line still visible, where a flashing from the top of the pent roof entered the wall.

Stucco coated homes might show a patched area where the pent roof used to be.  Many timber frame and log homes had a pent roof as well, but it is often harder to see the evidence on the surface.

Pent roofs began to disappear as new popular architectural styles pushed them off the building. The first change to the early homes was that windows became larger, not leaving much room between the first and second level windows.  Large, fancy pediments over main entrances on Georgian and Federal style homes would be obscured by a pent roof.  By the time the Revivals and Victorian styles emerged, the pent roof was history.  Later styles also included porches as part of the original design.  Homes that originally had pent roofs often lost them when a porch was added.

There’s a quaint late 19th century town not far from my home. I’ve inspected a lot of the old homes there and some really cool old shops and manufacturing buildings. My wife loves driving through it and seeing the really well preserved historic buildings. It’s quite apparent that the folks there really care about maintaining the character of their town.

The original part of the town was laid out on the south slope of a ridge and ends at a creek. At the north edge of the town, near the top of the ridge, there is an old house that I often drive by. It must have been an incredible view of the whole town before the trees came in and matured. I have an 1894 “Bird’s Eye View” map of the town. The kind where each building is drawn individually. I’m pretty sure it shows the house. The only other buildings around this home look to be agricultural buildings and there is much open and clear land. This house might have been a small family farm and is now surrounded by several later homes on lots probably sold off as small farms became unprofitable.

For a long time it appeared that the home wasn’t being properly cared for. It’s unfortunate and sad but it’s likely that the folks living in the home were getting “up there” and had limited ability and funds to care for the old home. I was really hoping some young, old-house friendly couple would find this property on the market soon, at a bargain price, so they could invest in some serious old house rescu-vation. I used to regularly exit the town by driving up that ridge and always looked to see if there had been any changes.

I hadn’t been by there for a very long time. When I happened up that road again, I forgot to look for the old house, but it jumped out at me anyway. IT WAS TWO-TONE PINK AND PURPLE. Not the hues of fancy Victorian homes, but the brightest, most obnoxious, see-it-through-the-fog-at-midnight colors ever produced in house paint.

Soon after, the local papers and TV news filled me in on the details. An investor bought the home and applied to demolish it and build 2 homes on the lot. The town council denied it, citing the narrow lot and impervious surfaces issues. The investor then applied to build a twin home but it was also denied. Instead of investing in the restoration of an old house, he is protesting the rulings that cut his maximum profit potential.

It was a gamble and he lost. Now he punishes the neighbors and angers the surrounding community. I guess it wouldn’t matter to a full-time investor from outside the area. But he’s not. He’s a local real estate broker.

You’d think a smart business man, who could benefit from positive publicity, would involve himself in something that makes the community better. Not this one. He boasts to reporters that he’s going to paint on yellow polka dots, maybe even a horses rear end, illuminate it at night and maybe even bring in live turkeys. Is this a person anyone would want representing them in a transaction involving hundreds of thousands of dollars?

Old-house folklore — I hear it everywhere.  Unfortunately, some home owners believe it if they hear it from people that hold themselves out to be professionals.

In a Canadian newspaper, the Toronto Star, a home inspector was interviewed as the sole source for a piece titled “Take a careful look at older homes.”  On the topic of hazardous materials he states:

“In older homes in the plaster they used horse hair to bond the plaster together and horse hair was treated with arsenic.”

If asked, I don’t think he, or anyone else, could cite a credible source that would substantiate that horse hair in plaster was ever treated with arsenic.  I don’t know of any research, study or testing that would indicate any type of poison would have been mixed into plaster on walls of historic buildings.  I haven’t read about any plasterer, remodeling contractor or homeowner ever getting poisoned from old walls.

There is only one time that I’ve ever heard of someone trying to link arsenic and plaster.  A geologist, studying environmental issues with tanneries in the mid-Atlantic, found receipts indicating small quantities of horsehair from one tannery was sold to plasterers. He also found the tannery used lime (not the kind prepared to be suitable for plaster) and arsenic in processing hides. It was then implied that there might be arsenic in plaster. It seems that this was picked up by a periodical, thus creating a perceived link between what was “discovered” and a possible health risk.

There are only two instances, from credible sources, that have indicated arsenic in building products.  I can no longer recall those sources, but one was about arsenic in pigment used in very expensive wallpaper.  Another source indicated some rare instances of trace amounts of arsenic of iron furnace slag ground up and used for aggregate in mortar.

There are some very real health risks, well studied and documented, that old-house owners deal with regularly.  I don’t think being poisoned by our walls has made it on that list.