When I was a child, my Grandfather built me a playhouse. The exterior was painted a 70's lime green with a moss-covered pathway leading up to real shrubs and curtain-covered windows... and the inside... well, the inside is where my imagination took flight.
A place for countless tea parties. Pounds of plastic pork chops, cooked on a tiny white wooden stove, with cranky black knobs and painted "hot" burners. A place for piles of dishes that needed to be rinsed. Then dried. Then put away, only to reemerge moments later to play all over again. A place for sleep-outs. A place for blanket-covered-flashlight-face ghost stories. A place for giggles. A place for tear-stained cheeks. A place for teddy bear luncheons and summertime popsicle playhouse retreats. There were lessons in laughter and silliness, lessons in bravery and friendship, all contained in a 5x8 space. A small space with big memories, to last a lifetime.Share
So, when my husband and I were deciding which play structure should live in the backyard (for our 2 year old daughter), naturally I wanted to rebuild a space that would hold all of HER memories. And so, the construction of one pink & white playhouse began...(Read more.)