I have recycled a fair bit of fence wood -- mostly cedar -- into the interior walls of the playhouse.
It's a nine-by-ten room with a shed roof, four, large windows, and a full size door, dimensional wood throughout, on pier blocks, by the creek, about two hundred feet behind the house.
My oldest granddaughter asked me to finish it, and I've done so, for us to camp out in. It's fairly mosquito-proof by now. I installed a couple of coat hooks at the right height for her, and donated a broom and dustpan.
There's a large plastic tub, which the family uses to store tents, that I thought would make a good table, so I hauled that out there, and also an old seat for two from, I think, a VW bus. This I have covered with a patterned cloth from India, which looks well against the grain of the fence boards.
When all this was done, it being very hot out, I made a burrito with a fried egg, fresh lettuce, beet greens, chard, onion blossoms, chives, and snow peas, and sat in the shade of the fir trees to eat it, watching the jays raid the banty's grain and drinking water on the front porch.
A swallow hovered near the wall, picking cobwebs for its nest.
Beloved has made her nest as well. Every summer she sets up a camp bed in a sheltered part of the yard, and sleeps under the stars right through till September, when she is driven in by either rain or frost. I'd join her, but the top of my head gets cold. In the morning she will make coffee and we'll sit together under the lilacs.