When I was a boy growing up on the farm, I dreamed of having a treehouse. We would build "forts" out of hay bales or straw bales, but those were always temporary as the bales would get used up. There simply was not a good tree on the farm that would work right. Some would not have a branch until you got about 20 feet high, and Mom decided that was too far for us to fall !!! The other trees were like big bushes, dang, so those aren’t working either.
We went to Grandpa and Grandma’s house who lived waaaay further back in the hills than we did. HEY !! They had built a treehouse for our cousins. COOL!! It was just right! It had the boards nailed to the tree for steps to climb up and a rope for raising and lowering things. THIS WOULD BE PERFECT !!! But we were not allowed to play in it because it was our cousin’s treehouse. It was not my brother and mines treehouse. We had to STAY OUT !!! I could try explain this, but I might have a relapse and all those years of therapy would go to waste !
So now I wanted a treehouse more than ever! Well, I must have been watching some war movies on tv or something, but it occurred to me I could make a bunker. Yeah, that would be cool! I’ll make an underground bunker, I’ll make steps into it, and hide from incoming bombs in it! Sooo, my brother and I started digging. We were not even smart enough to get a shovel and dig, we dug by scratching away at the dirt with old metal sickle guards we found in the iron pile then carrying the dirt out in a pail. It took day after day to get the hole the size we wanted. Every day after school we dug, and we dug, and we dug some more. Wow, this thing is getting deep ! Good thing we dug steps in the side wall to get in and out of it! We might fall in the bottom and never get out! (Deep for a kid is roughly 3 and a half feet!)
After careful inspection, the hole was the perfect size for a bunker. I found some old wooden screen doors stacked behind the chicken house. Those would be perfect for the bunker doors and we could spring out of them when the enemy was in range. The doors were laid in position. The bunker was complete ! All it needed was my gear. Binoculars, BB gun, plastic canteen, walkie-talkie, that oughtta do it until I get some plastic grenades. It was kinda late that day so the loading of the gear would have to wait until after school tomorrow. Tomorrow would be the first official use. I could not wait!
Finally 3:30 came and after a 45 minute ride we jumped off the bus. We ran in the house to change clothes. My brother and I grabbed our “gear” and headed for the bunker to assume lookout positions and call in enemy movements to headquarters.
As we got to the bunker, something was wrong. What had happened? I couldn’t believe my eyes. My dreams were shattered. Dad had drug the outhouse from its’ old location, and placed it over the top of my bunker. No more screen door covers, no more fun, no nuthin. All those days of digging went right down the crapper, literally.
Dad said, “You boys dug that hole in just the right spot!”
Dad doesn’t get to go NEAR my teardrop!!!
by cherokeegeorge » Tue Sep 10, 2013 10:55 pm 
Thats exactly why Doug and I didn't participate in tu tu thursday. social media 
I can't say who the rats belong to. code of silence and all. 
OK, so we were 12 ladder rungs up... 
When standing up there your head was above the tops of most of the other trees around it, but there were some higher ground blocking the view in some directions. You could still see parts of all three bays and Shelter Island from the top level.
