Out on a limb

I believe a tree house has got to be somewhere in every maker's past present or future. For me, it is past and present and most likely the future. I remember remnants of a treehouse at my grandparents' house--some 2 x 4 steps held to the gnarled trunk of a pine tree with dozens of nails, half of which where bent over, victims of the misguided hammer blows of amateur tree house builders that would grow up to be my uncles. The platform to which this crude ladder ascended, had long since succumbed to the elements but my mind could still fill in the blanks and imagine it in all its glory.

My own treehouse project begin on a hot summer day beneath the cool shade of what we kids called "the gum ball tree" in reference to the spiky ping-pong sized balls which hung from its limbs. This three trunk behemoth rose to what seemed like 500 feet, at least from a child's perspective. In reality it was probably closer to 75 feet. It's lower limbs had long since been trimmed away to make cutting the grass around it easier. Now the first limbs beckoned from what seemed an impossible 15 feet above me (to be cont'd)