It’s priceless when you have something left in heritage from your antecedents. When you come in touch with those things, you try to imagine their distant life and connect those things with the memories from your childhood. In this house were living my mothers family (3 children) till her sixth age, when my grandfather had bought a house in the town, and they moved to live seasonally there. It’s damn interesting to hear the memories of 13 children game and joy that time, and hear the tales of how my grandfather was serving the dinner and feeding those 13 hungry mouths, in that environment, in that nature! Not even to mention the play of their children – me and my cousins (multiple by 2) while we were still playing football instead of getting socialized by the acquisitions of modern technologies. It was so interesting to hear that screaming of our parents to don’t play with the ball around, while they were cooking. It was really amusing to be there and share those moments with them, moments when somebody was punished and the other one was crying at the same time. That period time was boring like hell spending the weekends alone with my parents in our mountain cottage, placed on the other side of the mountain. After a decade, now is a little bit depressive (at the same time relaxing) to see it abandoned with nobody there and no interest to visit that place, a place filled with magical energy about distant memories… Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash
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