'Though This Be Madness, Yet There is Method in 't' (Hamlet- Act II, Scene II)

Since the day Harry was born, Paul has yearned to build something, presumably for our kids, in the corner of our yard where nothing grows (nothing, ever). It is a place where plants fresh from the nursery go to die under the shady canopy of our Crape Myrtle tree. So when Harry came of age, so to speak, it was decided that dad would erect a playhouse. We scoured the Internet for construction plans and plunked down $10 for drawings that would have us building a replica cape-cod (with a virtually identical price-tag, because as this sweater-knitter knows, DIY is not cheap.)

Then we got to looking at pre-fab playhouses. Some mighty gross stuff out there. But there on a random Web page I found a very cute cedar house, complete with chimney, gabled windows and dimensions that would not dwarf our postage-stamp-sized backyard. The price was a fraction of what it would cost to buy siding and shingles and hardware. But poor dad, so many hammers, so little to do. While the manufacturers of our little house warn that it takes 8 hours to stick-assemble this baby, that's not really enough for Paul. So he decided he would build us a deck (a real deck, supported with concrete pillars and joists) to support the yet-to-arrive 104 1/2 Commonwealth Ave., Harry's 3rd birthday gift from Paba and Zaza.

So, that's what we did last weekend. We dug holes with a rented auger, we poured concrete, we hauled boards and we screwed in the last plank just before Sunday's downpour. And we are now the owners of what looks very much like a stage to host Summer Stock. I'm still a bit shell-shocked by the size of the thing, already plotting ways to hide the platform...big bushes and other plantings. If you have any great ideas, do tell. Until then, I'll be practicing the role of Ophelia.

Note to the rents -- the playhouse arrives by truck Monday!