I have this memory of a tree swing at my grandparents' country home. It hangs from a huge weeping willow tree branch in New Mexico and it's where I spent countless hours as a child swinging and daydreaming.
We have a couple huge trees on our property (and when I say huge, I mean huge). When we first moved, my husband hung a swing from one of the trees and we had so much fun swinging from it. But unfortunately, last year the tree had to come down as it was dying and since then we have been meaning to hang another.
So over the weekend, in the midst of working on the chicken house and installing a new kitchen floor, I added another project to
our my husband's list and asked him to cut a piece of old barn wood that I could sand for the base of the swing. In my mind, it was just a simple project of tying a rope to a piece of wood and hanging it, but fortunately Justus was a little more realistic and put some more time in it to ensure it would be a swing to last (smile).
The base of the swing is 20" long. It's an extremely old piece of wood that was warped, but that made it just perfect for this project. I sanded it and applied a coat of poly before Justus drilled holes on each end and bought 30' of hemp rope to string through the holes. He had the perfect location for the swing, but it meant climbing way up high on the ladder (and scaring me half to death). He drilled pilot holes in the branch, screwed in eye screws and attached the rope to D-rings.
This is the side of the yard that once was our driveway, but we moved it to the other side of the yard last year and gradually the grass has started to grow back. You can kind of see in the picture above how the rope is secured to the branch.
There is something so magical about climbing on this old-fashioned swing... inevitably, you feel like a kid again as you go flying through the air and there is just no way you can keep a smile off your face.
Of course Jillian goes running for the swing any time we go outside.
Rosetta has gotten her turn as well, although she's a bit more cautious (or maybe I should say, I'm a bit more cautious).
I love her sweet little laughter.
Isn't it funny how our childhood memories can influence us later on so much? I didn't really realize until writing this how many little things I enjoy and find beauty in because of memories at my grandparents'. Like the sound of our screen door squeaking as it opens and closes, and how I planted lemon-balm by our front porch because it reminded me of the peppermint my grandma always had growing next to their patio. Every time I sit on our new wooden swing, it just takes me back to those carefree summer days as a child... I can almost smell the peppermint and the roses and hear the screen door slam as I would swing back and forth...