When we first looked at the property we didn't go all the way to the end of it. So after we put our offer down we made a trek to the very end and found a tree house. A very elaborate one. It was a split-level green house with doors, windows, curtains, a chair, corkboard, and a mattress.
At one point, my husband was convinced that someone was living in the tree house. He was at the bottom of the property and he saw a quick large movement from inside. It could of been an animal, but he thought it was too big for a raccoon. So he grabbed Harley and a shotgun, rapped on the door, and called out, "I AM GOING TO COME BACK IN 10 MINUTES AND YOU BETTER BE GONE!" Sure enough, that person moved out.
Then one blustery, rainy day, the house and half the tree came down.
BOOM!
Well, at least, that's the sound I imagine it made when it hit the earth. I didn't hear it over the storm. If a tree falls down in the middle of a storm, does it make a sound?
My husband and I stood there the next morning staring at all the debris. Thoughts flying in and out of heads.
We don't have a truck or trailer to haul the remains of the tree house to the dump. So, my parent's offered us Ol' Blue.
Meet Ol' Blue.
I have fond memories of Ol' Blue. She is my Dad's old grimy work truck. She is dirty, she is old, most little things are broken on her, and she's got enough torque to haul a mountain. My Dad would take me and my girlfriends to school blasting scratchy 1980's love songs through Ol' Blue's speakers. More often than not, the truck would be filled with corn syrup or apple boxes. Dad would grin his sideways smile and say to me, "Don't be embarrassed. Those apples are going to pay for your college education." Try telling your 16 year-old daughter not to be embarrassed. Go on, try it.
And now Ol' Blue is back in my life helping me out.
But how to get the house off the tree?
Now in the story comes my kindly neighbor and his cousin. I swear, God has blessed me by surrounding me with people who only want to help. It really is amazing.
Kevin did some prep work and removed all the windows so the glass wouldn't shatter during demolition. He did really well till the last glass window. The pane of glass slid suddenly from its frame and rained shattered glass on Kevin. A shard hit him square in the face and he quickly used his gloved hand to staunch the wound. When he pulled his hand away he saw blood and ran to the house screaming my name. I quickly settled him in the bathroom with tweezers in hand ready to pull glass from his face.
"Uh, where are you hurt?"Kevin turned to the mirror, and chuckled to himself when he realized he had a teeny tiny scratch.
Later that week my neighbor's cousin came in with his excavator. He tied a chain around the tree limb and with simple ease pulled the whole tree house and it's limb free.
I am sad to see the treehouse go. I can easily imagine a young girl named Samantha playing with her dolls in that tree. Maybe she imagined it was a sail boat taking her around the world. Maybe it was her fort for the day. Maybe it was just a quiet place for her to call her own. Whatever it meant to her, I hope she knows that I will never forget her treehouse.
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