My parents bought a 150 year old house to save their marriage or something . Being 12 or 13 I was willing to buy into the dream of idyllic squalor . 'local history' . My sister got bronchitis because her bedroom was too cold . I guess she didn't believe enough. I enacted some fantasy of genteel poverty ; 'I capture the castle' was probably to blame . My dad left . The floors rotted . There were rats in the ceiling . I hung flowers from the light fixture and listened to Dvorak .
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