Treasure in the attic

Flattened cartons in an attic
A paradigm of neatness and organization is our attic.

If there is one thing that boys love …

— apart from football, rugby, cricket, ice hockey, basketball, American football, cycling, the Tour de France, wine, beer, whisky, a night out with the lads, curry, swearing, throwing things into rivers, films, going to the movies, computer games, computers, wireless technology, the internet, candid photography (wink wink!), gadgets, wide-screen HD TVs, DVDs, fiddling with scart plugs, stereo Hi-Fi equipment, quality cables, batteries, torches, building gang huts and tree houses in the garden, sitting reading the Sunday papers watching the telly, Grand Prix races, cars, motorbikes, mountain bikes, weight training, guitars, guitar heroes, rock music, real metal™, leather trousers, flirting with pretty girls, kissing behind the bike sheds, garden sheds, tractors, combine harvesters, ride-on lawn mowers, building things, dismantling things, chocolate and dogs *

.. then it’s attics.

I’ve never had an attic before. Not a floored one, anyway. With a light bulb. And this one had treasure in it.

Assuming that your definition of ‘treasure’ is ‘an unused square of Kingspan insulation’.

The day that we got the keys to the new house I was standing in the attic with our former neighbour Ian who got very excited by his find. It was surplus to our requirements and just what he needed for a building project at home so we gifted it to him. There was a ceremony and everything.

Yvonne (Ian’s wife): Does Gareth know you’ve got that piece of Kingspan?

Ian: Yes!

Yvonne: Are you sure he doesn’t need it for anything?

Ian: No, he said I could have it.

Gareth (in the distance, coming down the stairs): Boy! Do I have plans for that piece of Kingspan that we found in the attic! It’s valuable, you know.

And I wasn’t the only person who recognised its value that evening. As we were walking home past The Haven pub and restaurant later that evening Ian was heckled by someone stumbling out of the pub on account of his carrying a square of insulation down the street.

Man in pub: That’s an attractive piece of insulation you’ve got there, laddie!

Ian: (Laughing) Thanks!

Man in pub: It’s valuable, you know. You’d get at least £5.00 for it.

Ian: Thanks, I’ll bear it in mind.

That’s a man who truly knows the value of his building products.

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