The Tree House

The ceremonial main beam went up in spring, an oak two by six so heavy it took us all together with our mother to hold it up while I bent nails against its obstinate solidity. The pyramids must have been easier to build. Boards were brought from every scrap pile on the place and we would make a production with the addition of each one and raise them with a block and tackle as if we were dedicating some monument to time. The construction of the tree house took till summer, the landscaping went on till fall in Shady Valley and there was a permanent position for someone willing to work, maintenance of the kitty cat cemetery, also the resting place of rabbits, dogs and a two headed turtle. And there was a bridge to be built; there is always a bridge to be built.