A Treehouse, a little you-and-me house

Jeff had it all planned. A weekend in New York—nothing more romantic. He and Kara dressed up. An evening at Cirque de Soleil. Then a walk to Rockefeller Center. “Let’s go skating,” he said. Kara didn’t want to lace up borrowed skates under her nice dress. No worries. Jeff had Plan B ready. The little box was burning a hole in his pocket. “Let’s go to Top of the Rock,” he suggested. Kara liked that idea. She slipped through security’s metal detector, but Jeff was called back. He’d set off the beeper. Watch off. Belt off. Keys and change out of his pocket. Try again. More beeping. “What else have you got in your pocket?” the guard asked. Jeff took out the little box and held it to his chest. The guard had to step closer to see what he was gripping—close enough for Jeff to whisper. “I’m going to propose,” he said. “Okay, go on through,” the guard said. Security has a heart. “What was the problem?” Kara asked. “Faulty metal detector,” Jeff said. Was it the hinges on the velvet box that cau

Last week’s guest at Fern Forest Treehouse was a cream specialist. Cream specialist—I salivate just saying it. Richard is a farmer’s son so of course he knows about cream. And milk. But not cheese—his father sends the milk away to be made into cheese. Nothing cheesy about Richard. Imagine a cream specialist who’s a wiry six-three and has an Irish accent. Did I mention his father’s farm is in Northern Ireland? (Seamus Heaney country.) And imagine the Irish accent seasoned with an ever-so-slight Asian flavor. Did I mention that Richard lives and works in Taiwan? And did I mention he’s quite handsome? Before I hyperventilate, I suppose I ought to tell you that Clare was with him. She’s a seraphic dark-haired beauty with a lovely smile who lives in Oxford, England, where she sells real estate. And she’s sweet as pudding. Richard and Clare were on their way to a wedding in Waitsfield and stopped for a night in the treehouse on the way. It was a hot night in F

Fern Forest has been sweltering in this July heat. Last weekend, before the inferno, Alana surprised her Los Angeles boyfriend Aaron with three nights at the treehouse. Alana is a dental hygienist in Boston, and Aaron has just moved to Boston to begin studying acupuncture. They tell us that dentists are starting to use acupuncture in place of Novocain, and maybe one day these two will be in business together. Their first night with us was a little crowded. Richard, a colleague of mine at Spalding University where we teach in the MFA in Writing Program, had brought his daughter Becky up from New York City to look at colleges, and nearby Middlebury was on the list. I had invited my friend Dora to have dinner with us, and everyone arrived about the same time. We emptied a bottle of wine and finished off a platter of cheese and crackers, and then we all headed to the Bobcat Café for dinner. Later, we put Becky in the guest room and stashed her dad on the bed in H’s basement office, and