Apparently, I have repressed memories of my grandmother. I was listening to the radio in a coworkers office and "The House on Pooh Corner" came on. Had to get out of there because the memory was so poignant. I was around 3 or 4 and spending the night at my grandmother's house. I was in the closet I usually slept in, curled up on a pile of clothes (my usual nest I slept in) and reading. My grandmother opens the door and rather than saying "It's 4 in the morning, go to sleep!," She grabbed an OLD book from the top of the closet, saying it was the only book she had growing up. She says "Read this with me? It'll help us both sleep." It was a book on Amerindians (one of my favorite topics growing up). Her radio was playing that song while we read.