Like many early generation Y'ers, I spent most of my 7 year old days idolizing Punky Brewster...not only for her jazzy style or sunshine hair bands, but for her super-fly tree house. Alas, my backyard tree house days consisted of the living room and a queen size bed sheet draped between one end of a couch and a leather recliner.
But enough of my jibber-jabber, take a look at this itty bitty lodge.
I'd say that's a mighty fine example of a graduated tree house.
Show of hands, who in blogland grew up with their very own tree house? Was it everything you (and I) thought it would be?