Playhouse Dreams ’n Doin’

Reader Contribution by Heidi Hunt
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When I was a little girl (a dedicated tomboy), there were two places in our yard that I imagined as my own private playhouse space. One place was the spruce tree at the side of the house. I’d climb up as high as my second-story bedroom window, coiled rope in hand, and pretend I was Roy Rogers about to catch some bad guy. My horse (red two-wheeler) was tied up at the base of the tree just waiting for our fast-paced chase. I also had a Lone Ranger pistol with a silver bullet that was a secret message container. Roy and the Lone Ranger spent a lot of time together in my head.

The other backyard playhouse space was on the far side of the garage behind the lilacs. I had a couple of chairs there and some cardboard. This place was more like a room than was the tree branch. I’d invite close playmates to spend time there. We’d imagine all manner of scenarios — the best may have been the rocket ship that Walter and I built one summer.

The photo above is of a cob playhouse built for his children by Shawn Goodman of Ithaca, N.Y. It even includes a cob pizza oven. Oh — what I would have done for such a playhouse when I was a child!!

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