Working on my friends's tiny house on their large property has been full of surprises. But none better than yesterday when they invited me to peek into the main house's attic.
With a flashlight in my hand, bent over due to the low ceiling, a collection of cobwebs and dust greeted me saying, "The last time we saw anyone in here was over thirty years ago."
Though most of the items I could see, were much older than that.
As Rich Alves a friend from Willows on Facebook said to me, "It is like being junk drunk."
JUNK DRUNK I am.
I would rather be covered in cobwebs, dust, ash, droppings... call it my Vogue.
My paparazzi would be if a mouse, spider or bat came by to say hello.
Heaven in an attic.
A treasure chest for the tiny house.
A collection of family history.
The value of these old things comes from stored memories, a life well lived, keepsake...
We carried the gathered things down four flights of stairs then outside, cleaned them and then carried them up two flights of stairs to the tiny house. The first renter comes at the end of the month.
Want to take a retreat in the tiny house?