If you were one of those kids that didn’t have a tree house when you were younger you probably still want one. I don’t know if there will ever come a time when I don’t want to live in a tree house full time and I don’t mean one of those ones with plumbing and electricity that’s basically a house a little bit off the ground, but one that is rickety and really high up with a trap door. My dream home has graduated from Swiss family Robinson style living with a spiral staircase inside the trunk (which I still think is the best) with ostriches and zebras and shit; to a more realistic; probably when I was old enough to realise that there are no zebras in England and that I did not want to hang out with my family; retreat tree house idea where I could smoke and play cards and talk about finding dead bodies with my pals like in Stand by Me. When I started to watch horror movies tree houses took on another function: I’m the worst with scary films my imagination just runs away with me; at the time its fine, they’re fun to watch and I normally suggest it but later when I go to bed I realise there are fucking loads of monsters in the world and most of them live in the corridors of my house and when I finally fall into an uneasy sleep, head full of the most fucked up things, expecting a cold hand to claw my shoulder like in that poem the raven, I almost always have zombie dreams. Typically I am one of the only remaining humans on earth and always the only way to get away from the zombies is to hide in a tree house, it is the weirdest thing but my zombies can never look up so the higher the better. Just in case this ever happens to come true this is the place we all should head:
That is the spindliest little branch I have ever seen
These are owned by a Papua New Ginean tree tribe they pack up sticks every three years so theres gotta be some spare ones around. Either way i’m thinking of setting something like this up in a buddy’s garden:
