Attic and Barn

Today I was at my granddad's old house. My granddad passed away a few years ago at 100 years of age. His children are in the process of cleaning out his house. So today I went up to visit and poke around in the attic and barn. When I was 12 or so, a cousin and I went up to the attic above the shed and poked around. We went down to talk to Granddad and asked him if we could have some of the old stuff up there. Granddad replied with a grin, "You can have anything you want up there, dear!" Things didn't mean a lot to him. He was happy to share with my cousin and I....and perhaps happy to see some of it go! Who knows who it belonged to? Some family members from years back, or previous owners?

So my cousin and I took a pack of post-its and went to claim our prizes, labeling an old chair, a sewing machine, a baby carriage. One of my aunts was telling me that my name is still on a couple of items in the shed. Here's what we saw back then, and it's pretty much the same today....

That my name is still on items
is a testament to the power of post-its,
because it's 35 years later.

Anyway, while I was walking down memory lane
and looking at the stuff there, I noticed the light coming in ---
through the stained glass windows of the front sitting room...

through the windows of the attic....

through the windows in the shed...

through the doors of the barn ...

It was beautiful.

It wasn't the stuff
that reminded me of Granddad.
The light reminded me of Granddad.
He brought light with him wherever he went.
And if I carry that within me, Granddad's there, too.


Christine Crocker said...

dearest Dixie,

your images are breathtaking.

How wonderful that you have such memories and real places to go to see them.

you're right, they are "perfectly imperfect" which is just right for old souls like us.
thank you for sharing them,
love, Christe'

ps. that puppy is a dolly dumplin'.
she has such soulful eyes.

SmitoniusAndSonata said...

That's lovely !

"Do not let what you cannot do
keep you from doing what you can do."

John Wooden