During the renovation, we stashed a bunch of furniture in the attic. Our kid immediately noted the previous presence of other kids there. I had paid no attention to the scratchings on the walls, but yes, there were many hieroglyphics.
“It’s kind of scary up here, but it could have been a cool place to play,” our kid noted.
Yeah, kind of scary. Starting with the break-your-neck steps/ladder to get up there.
But there are several skylights, and the floor is mostly tiled with terra cotta tomettes. This place would be a luxury apartment in Paris.
Back to the kids.
How many generations played under the eaves?
Did they know each other? Not as kids simultaneously, but through the generations….kids turn into parents, then into grandparents.I wonder what other marks they made on the world. What marks are we leaving? And you?