Officially my least favourite room in the house

Lofts; dusty, warm and humid places, and today not my favourite place at all.

In my childhood I quite liked going up in the loft. In my parents house the loft was a big space. It was always a bit of a lottery getting in and out. The loft hatch had to pushed up against to release the catch. There was always the chance that the hatch would slip and swing down accelerating due to the force of gravity connecting with your forehead. Luckily this never came to pass to me, although I have a slight (maybe false) memory o his happening to my brother.

In that particular loft there was a young boys dream; a large train set, with electronic points. I spent quite a lot of time up there playing with that train set. It's still up there. On a recent visit to my parents house I ventured upstairs to take a look. Of course it doesn't work now...the track is covered with dead flies, dust and spider webs. Makes a difference to leaves on the line. I still instinctively ducked as I closed the hatch.

My own loft does not hold these kind of memories. To be honest it is a dumping ground for unwanted possessions, those possessions that have no current use but are not yet so defunct as to warrant throwing them out entirely.

We cleaned out the loft last October, dumping items so useless and the replacing these items with others from around the house, once again filling the loft space. It is a dangerous place my loft. It is only part boarded, the boards being placed by the previous owners. This requires quite a lot of careful manoeuvring, I am always conscious of stepping in the wrong place and falling through the ceiling. That nearly happened today, I had to jump the hatch opening to avoid disaster.

Other hazards include splinters, allergic reactions to fibreglass and today heatstroke. Today was the day that the loft required emptying. This was quite a job. The temperature in the loft as the August Sun beat down was sweltering. I had stripped off to my shorts, exposing my middle aged chest (minus tattoos) and lifted and moved boxes, crates and bags until the loft was empty. By the time I finished I was knackered, dehydrated and sweating buckets. I never want to go back up there again.

If all goes well on Tuesday I won't have to. The problem...I will then own two lofts. Maybe one can be turned into a penthouse suite?

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