I used to think wing-backed chairs were an antique affectation, designed to make the sitter look as if they were enthroned.

Now, I realise they were one of the earliest and most effective forms of draught excluder. No need to knot a scarf around your neck when tucked behind their protruding ears. Even better are those magnificent Orkney chairs, which take heat-seeking design to its zenith. With their cradle-shaped backs, they’re like a straw hoodie. Generations of islanders have used them to keep the cold at bay in crofts of old – and, indeed, today.

Oh, for such simple times, when all it took to stay warm was to light a fire in the middle of the room and hope the smoke would find its way out through the thatch. These days, however, keeping a house cosy is more than a matter of comfort.

Obviously that’s the first priority, but it’s a close run race between being warm, thrifty and environmentally responsible. In an ideal world, one can be all three. Ideals, however, are often unattainable unless one has deep pockets.

When my husband and I first moved into our Borders cottage, there were so many chinks around our windows and doors we had them all replaced, either double glazed or triple.


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Now, however, we feel the need for further protection against the elements. Given that it’s estimated that 25% of heat loss occurs through the roof, we got in touch with a reputable firm of home insulators. We wanted advice about what to do with the loft above our bedroom which, we were beginning to suspect, was moonlighting as a walk-in freezer.

After his visit, we are now awaiting the estimate for wrapping the rafters in an upmarket type of cottonwool, and doubling the depth of the insulation on the floor. What we currently have looks like a combover. This horrible scratchy stuff, which fills the air with prickly motes of fibre, was laid for free, shortly after we moved in. The installation may have been gratis, but it cost us a roofer’s bill to have him diagnose the damp patches on the bedroom wall, which appeared some months later.

The insulation had not just been laid on the floor but also stuffed into our combes. By leaving no room for air to circulate, it led to a burn running down the walls. Disappearing into the loft with a golf club, the roofer hoicked it all out, amid much coughing.

The man who came to inspect our loft the other day was disappointed to learn that we don’t have a hatch beneath our ground floor carpet. Had there been, he said, he would have recommended underfloor insulation, which could be done via this one small trap door. What a pity the original builders, around the time of the American War of Independence, didn’t think about that.

The Herald: A cold day in GlasgowA cold day in Glasgow (Image: free)

And was it my imagination, or did he wistfully glance at our whitewashed walls on his way out? For him, they are a playground, ripe for interior or exterior insulation, on the same principle as zipping a child into a puffer jacket before going out sledging.

Breathable membranes could be fitted under the slates, as if cocooning it in clingfilm. Solar panels could be laid upon roofs. The cavities between inner and outer walls could be filled. To eradicate fossil fuels, a heat pump system could be installed, drawing in warm air from the ground.

When you think of it, there’s never-ending potential to turn what was once – admittedly many moons ago – a humble thatched two-room cottage into a modern thermo-pod, ready to face the environmental and geopolitical challenges of the 21st century.

This all sounds marvellous, doesn’t it? Who would not want to slash utility bills with one hand while polishing their halo with the other? Just one word of caution: keep doing the lottery.


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Although there are grants available for every household in Scotland towards upgrading their insulation – in some cases this will cover the entire cost – for many householders government help will only scratch the surface of the outlay.

It might be an exaggeration to suggest that retrofitting a house to improve its energy efficiency is almost as expensive as building a new one, but the bills are steep nevertheless. Added to which, not only do you need to seal everything up, you must also ensure there’s sufficient ventilation. In some high-spec homes, extractor fans are designed to work 24 hours a day.

The temptation might be to take things into your own hands, but I’d suggest resisting that urge. For example, spray-on insulating foam should come with a warning. Not only can it cause condensation, but mortgage lenders won’t offer mortgages on properties that have been insulated with this stuff (with the exception of newbuilds treated with foam during construction).

When a neighbour recommended this for our loft, a friend quickly took me aside and told me to steer clear. A professional insulator later confirmed how right she was.

So what are we to do? Since the war began in Ukraine, none of us is in any doubt that not only is the use of oil and gas environmentally hostile, but it makes us vulnerable to tyrannical oil and gas producing regimes. Given the urgent need to reach net zero emissions, it is incumbent on all of us to play our part in reducing heat-loss and energy consumption.

The problem is, the arithmetic is scary. Individual solutions – installing a heat-pump, say, or cavity wall insulation – are financially manageable, especially when grants and loans can soften the blow. It’s when signing up for what you might call the full menu that the bill runs into the tens of thousands. Such a financial commitment puts full retrofitting beyond the purse of all but the seriously well-off.


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At this point, the question arises of just how air and water-tight a home it is feasible or desirable to afford. At what point is the outlay recouped?

Yet maybe that’s the wrong question. Perhaps we should be asking if we can justify not doing this. Can we afford to waste gas, electricity or other fuels by effectively heating the garden?

Grappling with this dilemma brings me out in a cold sweat. At which point, it’s difficult to know whether to switch on the heating or step outdoors to cool off.