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Treehouse
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Treehouse
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My Treehouse Story
My first treehouse memory takes me back to a time before video games, cell phones and cartoons available 24 hours a day. My grandparents had a lake house in a very country setting in the 70's and you would think a group of 11-12 year old boys would have had enough to do with fishing, swimming, snake and frog hunting and so on, but as it is with boys, we were bored.
There was a giant Willow tree (terrible treehouse tree) rooted in the bank right on the lake. The branches spread out far over the water and we saw the awesome potential of a deck high up in the tree that we could jump and dive from as well as fish. The vision is still fresh in my mind. A treehouse to be envied by all who rode past in their boats, the Taj Mahal of Treehouses in South Texas. We had great plans for that tree house including a security system designed to repel the bravest jealous boater. The plan was to leave one of my dogs in the tree once the job was complete with a "Beware of Peanuts the Attack Dachshund" sign.
My grandfather was a hobby/builder and always had a project going on somewhere. Looking back it's easy to understand my later inspirations and career path. My grandpa was a good man who was a child during the great depression. He possessed a different set of values than most people grow up with today. With that said, when approached about pulling wood and nails from his supply, he said, "You can use what you pay for". A bunch of pre-teen kids could probably scrape up about $.75 if we were lucky.
He suggested we tour the shoreline and look for driftwood and boards around the lake. We were a determined bunch of future treehouse having guys and over a few days we collected a fair amount of wood and other artifacts from the shoreline including several life jackets, a single ski, and part of a hull of a sailboat. My grandpa donated a large coffee can filled with used nails, his rejects. They were all bent and rusty and he assured us that we would suffer some banged up fingers, but the nails would work.
The schedule was put a board on, time to swim, play, whatever and then back to work. We worked on that deck in the tree for a few days and eventually accomplished our dream hangout. The memory of the sense of pride we all felt for our hard work is still crisp. That poorly built deck in the tree over the lake lasted 3-4 hard years before a storm took down the tree. We played hard and fished long from that spot. There was many a sleepover and a ton of bologna sandwiches consumed. Here it is almost 40 years later and that time will always be with me.
There was a giant Willow tree (terrible treehouse tree) rooted in the bank right on the lake. The branches spread out far over the water and we saw the awesome potential of a deck high up in the tree that we could jump and dive from as well as fish. The vision is still fresh in my mind. A treehouse to be envied by all who rode past in their boats, the Taj Mahal of Treehouses in South Texas. We had great plans for that tree house including a security system designed to repel the bravest jealous boater. The plan was to leave one of my dogs in the tree once the job was complete with a "Beware of Peanuts the Attack Dachshund" sign.
My grandfather was a hobby/builder and always had a project going on somewhere. Looking back it's easy to understand my later inspirations and career path. My grandpa was a good man who was a child during the great depression. He possessed a different set of values than most people grow up with today. With that said, when approached about pulling wood and nails from his supply, he said, "You can use what you pay for". A bunch of pre-teen kids could probably scrape up about $.75 if we were lucky.
He suggested we tour the shoreline and look for driftwood and boards around the lake. We were a determined bunch of future treehouse having guys and over a few days we collected a fair amount of wood and other artifacts from the shoreline including several life jackets, a single ski, and part of a hull of a sailboat. My grandpa donated a large coffee can filled with used nails, his rejects. They were all bent and rusty and he assured us that we would suffer some banged up fingers, but the nails would work.
The schedule was put a board on, time to swim, play, whatever and then back to work. We worked on that deck in the tree for a few days and eventually accomplished our dream hangout. The memory of the sense of pride we all felt for our hard work is still crisp. That poorly built deck in the tree over the lake lasted 3-4 hard years before a storm took down the tree. We played hard and fished long from that spot. There was many a sleepover and a ton of bologna sandwiches consumed. Here it is almost 40 years later and that time will always be with me.
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