I live upstairs in a converted home. The staircase is a bit of a bother but I look at it as good exercise. It is an older home that has been converted and the closets are rather small. But on the up side I get the attic ! I love attics. This is the first attic I have ever had that you could actually walk around in. If you stay in the center you can stand fully erect. There is a dormer on the back side and in that area I have a workbench. Feels very rustic.
The flooring is tongue and groove pine, old, stained,warped, and in places broken. I love it . What character it has. The attic is not finished so the rafters and joists are visible. Rough cut oak. Brown and hard as rock. Incredible strength that reassures you that this house is solid. It may be old and grizzled looking, but it is tough.
The thing I really love about attics is the mysteries they hold. We have a tendency to store past treasures there. Boxes and totes filled with treasures from our past. Holiday decorations and other seasonal items. And my attic holds all my tools and treasures.
It is hard to explain why I feel an affinity to this particular attic. After all,it is just a rental. I can't help but wonder about what others may have stored there. What stories does the attic have to tell. There were a few items left lying in the dust when I first moved here. An old chair, a piece of heavy chain and some odds and ends left from housekeeping. A large box of discarded baby clothes. Some old soda cans and a makeshift ashtray. Someone had spent some time up there.
I'm no different from anyone else and I get lazy. Junk starts to pile up on the stairs leading to the attic. I'll take it up there later. Items get strewn about in the attic,I'll clean it up later. Well,the other day it was " later."
I went into the attic and commenced cleaning it up again. Putting items away and in general tiding up. One thing leads to another and I couldn't help but peek in boxes just to see what was inside. Ah, I remember that. So that is where I put that. Mystery. Why did I save that ? Maybe I should just chuck it out. A big discussion with myself ensues. Decision made. Then the wife wants to know," what are you doing ? " Throwing this out.
Another discussion about the item in question. Some things get a reprieve and others the death sentence !
Having spent several hours moving things around and organizing I am finally pleased. The attic looks wonderful. Even though it was work, it was an enjoyable time. Discovering lost items and memories. An old photograph misplaced now returned. A book read years ago now covered with dust. And memories everywhere I look. The Christmas candy canes that go on the porch. An old flexible flyer sled standing in the corner. A pair of ice skates. Duffel bags and the tent used for camping hanging from the rafter, waiting for summer. My tools lying there ready for use.
Just before turning out the light and heading downstairs I notice them. There hanging from the rafters gathering dust are the airplanes. A flood of memories fill my mind. I remember cutting those out of old pieces of pine. The grand kids putting them together and painting them What a nice afternoon we spent doing that little project. Turning out the light I'm smiling. I'm thinking that one day the kids may find them again hanging in that dusty old corner and remember that day too. Grandpa will save them for them. They just might need them someday.
I think that sums up the attic. A place of mystery,anticipation and discovery. There are lots of good things stored up there. Lots of memories.
The flooring is tongue and groove pine, old, stained,warped, and in places broken. I love it . What character it has. The attic is not finished so the rafters and joists are visible. Rough cut oak. Brown and hard as rock. Incredible strength that reassures you that this house is solid. It may be old and grizzled looking, but it is tough.
The thing I really love about attics is the mysteries they hold. We have a tendency to store past treasures there. Boxes and totes filled with treasures from our past. Holiday decorations and other seasonal items. And my attic holds all my tools and treasures.
It is hard to explain why I feel an affinity to this particular attic. After all,it is just a rental. I can't help but wonder about what others may have stored there. What stories does the attic have to tell. There were a few items left lying in the dust when I first moved here. An old chair, a piece of heavy chain and some odds and ends left from housekeeping. A large box of discarded baby clothes. Some old soda cans and a makeshift ashtray. Someone had spent some time up there.
I'm no different from anyone else and I get lazy. Junk starts to pile up on the stairs leading to the attic. I'll take it up there later. Items get strewn about in the attic,I'll clean it up later. Well,the other day it was " later."
I went into the attic and commenced cleaning it up again. Putting items away and in general tiding up. One thing leads to another and I couldn't help but peek in boxes just to see what was inside. Ah, I remember that. So that is where I put that. Mystery. Why did I save that ? Maybe I should just chuck it out. A big discussion with myself ensues. Decision made. Then the wife wants to know," what are you doing ? " Throwing this out.
Another discussion about the item in question. Some things get a reprieve and others the death sentence !
Having spent several hours moving things around and organizing I am finally pleased. The attic looks wonderful. Even though it was work, it was an enjoyable time. Discovering lost items and memories. An old photograph misplaced now returned. A book read years ago now covered with dust. And memories everywhere I look. The Christmas candy canes that go on the porch. An old flexible flyer sled standing in the corner. A pair of ice skates. Duffel bags and the tent used for camping hanging from the rafter, waiting for summer. My tools lying there ready for use.
Just before turning out the light and heading downstairs I notice them. There hanging from the rafters gathering dust are the airplanes. A flood of memories fill my mind. I remember cutting those out of old pieces of pine. The grand kids putting them together and painting them What a nice afternoon we spent doing that little project. Turning out the light I'm smiling. I'm thinking that one day the kids may find them again hanging in that dusty old corner and remember that day too. Grandpa will save them for them. They just might need them someday.
I think that sums up the attic. A place of mystery,anticipation and discovery. There are lots of good things stored up there. Lots of memories.
Transported me to your attic. Felt like I was there.
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