The right side of the attic
I'm not very 'feng shui' in the attic department. Apparently it's supposed to be hard to look forward to the future when there's so much clutter "hanging over your head." I don't want my children to have to go up there and deal with all that shite when I'm not able to. My father had the right idea. He did not allow anything to be stored in the roof space. But then he did have lots of big sheds. We have sheds too but they are Bert's and they aren't as dry as Daddy's were.
I always wanted an attic and was determined we'd have an accessible one when this house was being renovated. In the story books I read as a child they were always exciting places full of treasure. You'd open a trunk and it would be full of the most wonderful things from the olden days. There would be ivory fans, embroidered shawls and silken dresses your Granny used to wear. There would be hand written journals and carvings and mysterious old photographs. There would be beads and toys and ancient maps.
Not so in my childhood home. Granny's old dresses ended up as cleaning rags and the only thing in our attic was spiders and flittery things like bats and trapped birds.
There is no Victorian or Edwardian treasure in my attic. For sure there are old things up there - the detritus of generations. Bert's old pram is there. Pearlie's amazing collection of unused souvenir tea towels is there. And all those ornamental cats from when I had a cat collection. The attic is also full of rucksacks. Whoever uses rucksacks now?
The really old stuff comes from Bert's side of the family. There are bits and pieces of Orange and Black regalia from when his father and uncles were in those orders. I really don't know what to do with those.
And then there is this Sacred Heart picture that Matty gave me when I first got my own house. I haven't had it on the wall for decades but I still don't want to throw it out. A lot of ancestor issues there. So - if anyone wants me I'll be in the attic going through all the Christmas cards Bert ever received from 1959 to 1972. Or I might be perusing Pearlie's school books from the 1930s.