My grandpa has a small garage behind his house.
It is full of old things, and I love it there.
Old tools hang on the wall above the workbench.
Some are very old, but Grandpa still uses them.
A small radio sits on a shelf near the window.
It is older than me, but it still works well.
Grandpa turns it on every morning, and we listen to music.
Big boxes of photos are in the corner.
We look at them sometimes, and Grandpa tells me stories.
Last summer, we built a wooden birdhouse there together.
We worked for many days, and I painted it blue.
Now it hangs in the garden, and birds visit it every day.
The garage is not clean or new, but it is my favorite place.