Once my father realised that my sister never went near, let alone into, the tree house he’d built for her, he decided to dismantle it and build a summer house instead.
For the next few evenings, he very carefully disassembled the tree house and stacked all of the individual pieces against the shed wall.
He then drew a plan of the new summer house. He used a piece of butcher’s paper and a wax crayon, and then explained the diagram to me.
– It’s got a hexagonal back and sides and a flat front for maximum sunlight capture.
I nodded, wondering about the ‘maximum sunlight capture’.
Anyway, within a week, my father had built a summer house. It looked exactly like the one in his diagram, which ordinarily would have been a positive factor or a compliment, but which, in this case, was not.
It was a wooden structure that looked a lot like a very large sentry box. The back and sides nodded at hexagonality; the front was two huge sliding patio doors.
– It looks like a public lavatory, my brother said.
– It’s a bit open-fronted for that, my father protested.
– That’s why I said ‘public’. Read more…
My Father’s Garden: Summer House and Brewery
Copyright © R J Dent (2014)
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