Today we visited the weekendhouse my father planned and built in the late 60ies for his uncle Otto, now owned by his daughter and her sons and grandchildren.
My parents still have a key too. I haven't been there since my early childhood, so many memories were coming back, it was such a joy to show lou all the little secrets of the house like the stairs that lead to the hidden bed above the kitchen, the many things/toys O used to make as a crafting genius like the little wooden figures, the little carpets on the bench and, and , and...
I was very surprised how much I memorized because we just went there the first years and so have been my parents, but when I asked my father if he would be willing to plan a similar house for us near berlin if we, perhaps sometimes would be able to afford to build he did not react. He might not have understood how much I appreciated it, then and today.
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