This old house

LOML's family home in Northern Ireland used to be a hotel. There are dozens of bedrooms (well, okay, not quite dozens, but it feels like that), various staircases disappearing to mysterious places, attics, hay-lofts and nooks and crannies that may possibly only exist in certain dimensions. The house has a personality of its own, creaking and groaning at night like an old man heaving himself out of a chair. It seems like everything and everyone that has ever been in the house is still there, tucked away inside a drawer or closet. In the room we stayed in this time, LOML's granny's hats and furs from the middle of last century were stored in the closets and dressers, in pristine condition and still smelling like her perfume. It's a pretty amazing place.