I love to return to my grandparents' house. I have so many memories connected with it. When I was little I was quite scared of the attick. First, I was terrified of getting a splinter in my toe, which happened quite often at that time, caused by the old wooden floor. And second, there was something mysterious about that place. So I wouldn't ever go up there alone.
Now, many years later, I dont worry about splinters anymore. The attick is still quite mysterious but only in a good way. I find it rather exciting. It is so cosy. I always recall the winter time ages ago when I got a new Narnia book for Christmas and read it under the lamp light next to the attick window and the old wardrobe which seemed quite Narnian as well and would secretely add the heating because my grandpa was very thrifty about it but it had been freezing outside.
I spent some time in the attick last week when we visited my grandparents and found some more little but precious things, which all have sweet and thrilling stories behind them.
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