'The reading of all good books is like a conversation with the finest minds of past centuries.' - Rene Descartes
4. During my childhood, my Grandmother's house was endlessly fascinating. She grew strawberries along the fence in the sandy soil. Each room smelt of the sea, which was separated from the house only by the street and the sand. There were walls of black and white photos in ornate frames of ancestors I'd never met. Plush royal red carpet in the formal lounge. And a little sewing room, with curtained covered closets reaching all the way to the ceiling. Full of wonderful looking jars with eclectic contents and big silver scissors hanging from hooks.
5. When I moved out of home to go to Uni, my first flat was across the road from a cemetery. I would cut through it to get to Uni most days. I could walk a hundred different ways through it's maze to get where I was going. It was of course quiet and beautiful. There were carved angels standing atop tombs. Elegant poems on shining marble. Simple white wooden crosses. At night we often saw someone walking through the cemetery with a torch.