Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Saturday, 3 November 2018
A tree house nearby
As we were walking to town earlier today, we saw a few young boys, around 7-10, in a pathway between two rows of houses that was surrounded by trees. The children were playing with branches that had fallen down and were trying to set them together as some kind of rough habitation. One said hello to us, and the other proudly told us that they were making a house. I told them that it was a very cool idea. It kind of reminded me of the tree houses we used to play in when we were kids. I say this, and I can only remember of one proper tree house I have been in, and even then, it was mostly a shack roughly made of pieces of poor quality wood. On the ground, by the trees, not in the trees. In my cousins' home garden. we also did try to make some of encampment at home near trees, it never really worked, but the intention was there. They were really good meeting places for secret clubs and imaginary headquarters for our make belief games. Anyway, I am happy to see some kids building such tree house and I look forward to see the result, however sketchy. It gave me my daily moment of nostalgia.