For me it is the feeling of never being able to read the books in the same way again, too. In in our old 1930s house with the windows open in the autumn with the cold air blowing in, cosy under the blankets, sound of late night underground trains rattling past at the far end of the garden behind the old trees, leafing through old yellowed hardback editions of Swallows and Amazons books from the 30s -50s rummaged from church jumble sales for mere pennies....

Late 30s now and living in a different country, it feels so long ago.