Image: The Magicsticgoldenrose
“We’ve got to buy it!” announced dad as he bounced through the back door. “You know I’ve always wanted to live in a castle and here is our chance, a golden opportunity,” he said as we gathered round the kitchen table pouring over glossy brochure he’d come home with.
“But it’s so big,” said mum, “think of the cleaning, the upkeep, the council rates.”
“Think of the history, the character, it’s a story waiting to be told, we could fix up a part as a museum, open it on weekends and you girls could set up a section as a restaurant.”
This last part was said to the horror of my mother and my sisters.
The arguments raged back and forth most of us worrying about dad’s level of sanity.
The next morning neither he or mum were speaking. The castle was never mentioned again.
Dad was happily on permanent wash up duty after that night.