Here is where I can really embarrass myself! I grew up in rural Maine in a rambling house and barn that my father built in the 70's We moved there from coastal Maine when I was 8 years old. The new place had 40 acres of land which was fairly flat and included several fields where the topsoil had been stripped and sold as well as an old gravel pit filled with water, three cars and some trash (great for a little frog work!) and a meandering stream. (excellent for damming!)

I was always building something or at least trying to. one of my first projects was a worm bin where I raised worms and sold them in small containers to fishermen at a local campground. This was followed by a luxury rabbit hutch complete with a poop collection device underneath. Wish I had pictures. Then when I was 10 (ish) I built this small cabin because nobody told me I couldn't. I built two bunks inside and had sleep-outs.

Puberty hit a few years later and I could no longer stand up inside so I set to work building another, larger house. I worked during the summers for a jack-of-all-trades sort and used the money I earned to buy building materials. Here is the remains of the saw mill I worked in. This is where the siding for the first cabin came from.

And here is the small house I built when I was 13 or 14 - I really don't remember. It was 12'x16 inside with operating windows, wall to wall carpeting, power run off the barn 150' away, and a door that my sister-in-law had won as a door prize. I added the porch roof a year or two later. I lived in this house during the summer months right through college. It is still standing but just barely and is quite rotten. Pictures follow: