When a person reaches the age of 47 or thereabouts, and someone asks what that 47-year-old did over the weekend, one of the least anticipated answers might be, "I played in a tree house."
|This isn't the tree house, but this was on the way to The Tree House|
and is a story for another day.
If Chesapeake Bay Woman happens to be on the receiving end of that question, however,
|The Tree House is hidden in the right side of this photo.|
Once upon a Saturday afternoon, Chesapeake Bay Woman was waiting to see what life would bring next, because it always brings something fun and unusual. And all she has to do is wait for it.
(It's never, ever planned.)
Lo and behold, her high school friend Waterman JP asked if she'd like to take a trip to Bavon to see Something Which Escapes Her Memory but which turned into a side adventure involving tree houses.
Technically these are considered tree stands, from which he hunts. But in my book, no matter what, they're tree houses.
He built the one below stem to stern. The original structure was a tree house for his daughter.
Now that his daughter is in college with no immediate need for a tree house, he has re-purposed it for hunting.
(And random Saturday afternoons with an old friend.)
10 47-year-old with the soul of a 47 10-year-old can scale that ladder like it's nothing. Coming down is a whole other story.
When someone stands or moves inside this tree house, even with no wind, the structure sways. When two adults approaching the age of 50 are inside trying to get their bearings and find the quickest way to
discern who will still be alive to dial 911 open up the windows for cross ventilation before they cook to a medium rare and the turkey buzzards hunker down for supper...well.
That thing is swaying way more than is comfortable for CBW.
However, there was one ingredient in this Recipe for Potential Disaster that made CBW realize her fears of
impending doom a possible Tree House Catastrophe were unfounded.
And it was this person.
|Waterman JP, who can build, fix or do just about anything.|
If JP was confident that a 911 call was unnecessary, then I was too.
(I did insist that we not be on the ladder at the same time, so that one person would have the sense to dial 911 if the other person slipped and splintered their 47-year-old bones. Luckily that wasn't necessary.)
Thank you, JP, for reminding me that I am still 10 or 12 years old even though the birth certificate says otherwise.