Getting Lost..

My cousin and I used to get lost in the collection of books in my grandfather's library. We used to try and find hidden treasures; those bits and pieces of lives gone by that were forgotten between the pages. Old letters, notes, photographs. We found a few things that got our hearts racing, but I don't remember them now. All I remember is the endless fascination I had with this room. You know, all those times I spent in there, I don't ever remember opening one of the cupboards below. It's as if, the books were 'allowed' because they weren't hidden away but the closed doors, well those were 'private', the spaces of his home that held his things, not the families. Inside the shelves is now painted a wonderful robin's egg blue, making the books just scream to be held..

His enormous dictionary is still there, along with some walking sticks. We hiked alot as a family when we were together during the summers, but I don't think my grandfather ever used one, perhaps they are my aunt's. She has an amazing way of making 'the farm' feel like it always has, even though so many of it's treasures were spread to 'the four corners' after he passed away. She has filled it with her own and mixed in those that were left behind. I love to visit, and peek at the changes she has made, and enjoy the unchanging warmth the home holds.

The spot below has been transformed for the winter months. A bright spot from the winter sun, it is the perfect place to sit and work on the ever uncompleted jigsaw puzzle and gaze out at the endless snow.

So come, enjoy the fire roaring at your back, sit, and piece by piece, slowly put together a picture of spring..