When I was nine, my Dad built us a treehouse between two trees… it was like a deck with a railing, and we slept up there in our sleeping bags. 913 more words
Tags » Treehouse
My photos are terrible, but my heart is extremely happy. A gingerbread treehouse! I’ve realised one of my life’s ambitions; combining sweet yumminess and… treehouses. Also some lovely little red pandas thrown into the mix.
Mom I’m a grown college man you never got to see I won’t forget what it was like back then winter tried you broke you down with a shot furnace when the car didn’t start you didn’t have to tell me again you were sorry for making me tardy to school in seventh grade I was too grown up to get my meal tickets from the office each monday you yelled at me when I said I don’t gotta eat I didn’t want anybody to see me I bought what I could and found a used brown bag an empty soda can had them out before anybody knew you would be amazed how they feed me in college can pick me anything with my meal card and nobody says anything I know how ladies at the piggly wiggly back home whispered at the people on food assistance (I still hate that word… 261 more words