‘Tis summer and work in the gardens has taken me away from the computer. Fern Forest Treehouse has not taken a break, however. New Yorkers love to get out of the city during the sweltering season, and Vermont is a favorite destination.
In the past week we've had back-to-back Brooklynites. Josh is from L.A. and Laura’s from Florida, but they drove up from New York in a rental car with Texas license plates. Josh works on the television show “Law and Order,” and Laura fundraises for the Tribecca Film Festival. She’s also a musician and has played clarinet in orchestras. They’re quiet folks. And they like to sleep.
Both work until 7:00 or 8:00 at night, then they go to the gym and finally have dinner at 10:00 or 11:00. They’re lucky to get to bed by 1:00 a.m. and use weekends to catch up on sleep. When we got them the latest reservation at the Bobcat, they were a little appalled at having to eat as early as 8:30 p.m. H and I eat at 6:00, dishes washed by 6:45, and by 8:00, he’s nodding in front of the Red Sox game and I’m tapping away on the computer. By 9:00 p.m., we’re done in.
But, then, one acclimates to one’s surroundings. After a night in the treehouse, Laura wandered into the kitchen by herself. Josh was exhausted and wanted more shut-eye. We sat her at the table and brought her breakfast—H’s cheese omelet, freshly made cranberry scones, yogurt, homemade granola and fresh blueberries, and half a grapefruit.
“Would you like me to sit with you?” I asked. There’s a lovely shyness about Laura. She’s like a seed, quietly self-contained with beautiful blossoms waiting inside.
“I have my book.” She patted her novel, which looked like beach reading. I was not offended. Making conversation with strangers is a practiced art, and neither of us cared to practice that morning.
While she ate, I packed a basket for her to take out to Josh with a thermos of hot coffee and a mason jar of orange juice, scones and omelet wrapped in foil, the grapefruit in Tupperware. The basket was given to me for some occasion I forget and had a frilly bow on it. I left the bow on. Josh needed some frivolity.
H and I had to run errands, and when we came back a couple hours later, the couple had brought in the basket and washed the dishes. The kitchen was slick as a starched sheet.
They went to Burlington for the day and came back late, and we didn’t see them until the next morning. Josh managed to pry himself from the loft bed and came in for breakfast. I love no-fuss guests, and these two asked little of our time and left the forest with hardly a leaf overturned. Sweet.
Coming up next: Brooklyn Redoux.