When Katy (the sister-person) and I were teenagers, we took over this old shed in the back of Dad’s house. We promptly made all sorts of plans including reinforcing the storage platform in it’s roof so we could sit up there. Most of our plans never happened, but we did spend a good many hours outside drawing on the walls, building shelves out of bricks and more.
Since then she’s moved to Thailand, I’ve moved to Hawaii, and Dad has re-painted and re-claimed the old shed for tools and storage. Call me nostalgic, but I took a walk out back last time I was home. I was happy to see (his best parental efforts not withstanding) some remnants of fantastical summer days still remain.
Anyone else get touched by nostalgia when you visit home?