The Berenstain Bears live in a tree house. They have branches growing in their hallways and bedrooms. When Max (who was being a nuisance of one kind or another) had a forest grow all around in his room, I was terribly jealous. Piglet and Pooh bear had it made. Me, I never had a treehouse.
That’s not *entirely* true. A couple of the neighbourhood boys nailed some planks of plywood into a couple of trees in the alley. It was terribly unsafe, but incredibly cool, and we loved it. Then the neighbours complained to someone and the father of one of the boys (the father who was a carpenter) took it down. So the boys spent the rest of the summer shooting squirrels out of the trees with slingshots.
You don’t know how desperately I wanted to write “so the boys spent the rest of the summer shooting squirresl with slingshots out of the trees”. **Sigh**
Squirrels with slingshots are dangerous critters, you know. Terrible accurate with the aiming.
Anyway, I’ve always wanted to live in a treehouse. Then, quite some time ago, I saw what this guy did, and I’ve upped my desire to live in a tree a thousandfold. In a tree or on a boat. Possibly even in a boat that’s in a tree. In a tree that’s on a boat would be more problematic…although living in one of those spheres, suspended from the masts…now that *would* be cool.