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Thursday 19 December 2013

The Attic







I thought I would like to tell you about the attic in my childhood home. The house is currently up for sale and my brother and I spent several days at different times, clearing out the accumulated mass of items which had been stored there. It was a large attic, covering the entire footprint of the house, with a squeaky metallic ladder to gain access, and electric lighting to illuminate the gloom.

My parents had lived in the same house for over fifty years. It was their first marital home. Not only did they bring all their own belongings, but my mother's parents also moved in with them bringing many personal items when they left their very substantial house.

There was no concept of recycling in years gone by, and my parents were loathe to throw anything out. Broken electrical appliances, old televisions, crockery no longer in use, children's clothing, all were relegated to the attic.

On the death of an uncle, his belongings also joined the extraordinary collection, and I am ashamed to say, some of my unwanted wedding gifts, university notes and books were added also.

It became apparent in more recent years that the weight of the stored items was causing cracks to appear in the walls. Initially thought perhaps to be due to subsidence, this was disproved by an engineer, and so the process of clearing the attic became  more urgent.



As children, we were sometimes allowed to play up there because my brother's Scalextric track was set out on the floor- boarded area of the attic. There was no heating up there, and extra sweaters had to be worn in the cold winter months. We were strictly told not to delve into the piles of bags, boxes and other items, but of course from time to time we could not help ourselves.

Over in a dark unlit corner lay the upholstered mattress- like seating from a metallic swing garden chair. There are photographs of my grandmother seated in this chair, knitting in the summer sunlight, at her house, decades before my childhood home was built. Next to that, an old pram, and a cot, with some bags of old clothes, dusty fabric, and unwanted bed linen strewn around.
 
 
 
 
Moving in more towards the centre of the attic, a large pile of church organ music and scores for church choirs, preludes, hymn books, copies of  The Messiah, Elijah, all a legacy from the time that my grandfather was a church organist. Beside these dusty music books, a violin in a black leather case. This was my mother's. Before her marriage, she used to play violin in an orchestra but for inexplicable reasons, the violin became relegated to the attic after her marriage, and I cannot remember her ever playing it.

In the far corner, old copper kettles, warming pans, boxes of ornaments and crockery, rolls of unused wallpaper. Many paintings which used to hang in other houses and boxes full of old family photographs. One  small framed photograph showing forgotten relatives in early 1900 clothing, fell and smashed as we picked it up. Behind the framed photograph, another one tucked away, showing two small girls with stunted growth. No-one talked about these unfortunate children , genetically abnormal, apparently sent away to spend the rest of their life in a distant care home.

A bookcase stood against the far wall, crammed with old books, Victorian children's novels, bible study aids, poultry keeping guides, silk rearing textbooks and memorabilia from the Methodist Church in Ireland. A number of very beautiful old  cameras in leather cases and a lantern viewer from the early 1900s placed on the lower shelves.

There were many old leather suitcases, filled with hats, old clothing, scraps of leather, patterns for making hand- made leather gloves, and battered toys. Some dolls that had lost limbs and bags of dolls clothing lay on the floor. One large case containing children's sandals, unisex, passed down from one to the other, then placed here when grown out of.





Hidden under the eaves, a brown paper parcel, bulging and soft. When opened, it caused amazement, as it contained silk samples, documents, Royal Warranties  all from the early days of the Atkinson Silk Poplin Company which had been a very successful business developed originally in 1820. Kings and queens from European states had ordered silk for gowns, and the samples of the fabric were still in good condition. These extraordinary items have been donated to the National Museum  to take their rightful place in the industrial history of Dublin.

The death of my mother's uncle resulted in all his books being added to the attic. He had worked in his younger days in the Foreign Service and had learnt several languages. There were huge leather bound textbooks on learning Mandarin and other oriental languages. Many of these we donated to the Chester Beatty Library. He also had an interest in scientific development and there were large numbers of  books on physics, chemistry, mathematics and astronomy dating from the 1940's and 1950's.His collection of glass photographs, many of 1920's China,  gave a glimpse into a long lost culture.

Cleared of the vast quantity of stuff, I believe the house has now been freed from the responsibility of holding all the combined memories of several generations; free to begin a fresh  phase of life and provide a comfortable home for another family. That is a comforting good feeling.