Sometimes I want to retreat. I fantasize about spending a night in a tree house with an elevation that would give me a new perspective both literally and figuratively. I’d kiss my husband and children goodbye and hoist a bag over my shoulder that I had filled with all my unread books and a bottle of wine. I’d head on a short walk through the backyard and up the steps to a place I could call my own. Then 15 minutes later I’d miss them something awful and invite them to sleepover. The books will have to wait.
My older brother built a tree “fort” one summer, I think that calling it a tree house was too girly for him. He did most of the work and allowed me to hand him the nails. We built it in an enormous evergreen tree in the front yard and at 12 years old he had skills with a hammer. He attached makeshift steps to the trunk that led to a sturdy platform that he had nailed to the branches. We’d bring our lunch up there and invite our neighborhood friends to visit. We all loved how secluded it was, we were hidden from view and we got a small thrill from the fact that when cars drove by we could see them but they couldn’t see us. I still love the idea of tree houses and know that I’d get that same small thrill from being in some of these decidedly more grownup versions. Today, simultaneously Yahoo published this article about an ex-Ralph Lauren Designer who left his job to build one of the coolest tree houses.
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