Some books have the ability to transport you right back to where you were when you first read them.  Young’un is one of those books for me.  From the time I was 5 until I was 13, we lived in a house that was a couple of hundred years old.  It had formerly been housing for the mill workers from the silk mills that used to operate in town.  I loved that house.  It was full of nooks and crannies and creaky floors and a strange hodgepodge of rooms.  There was an enclosed front porch that had been added on at some point.  We kept all our bikes on it…