A Treehouse, a little you-and-me house

              It took two years for Monet and Nadir to pay a second visit to Fern Forest. We’ve been following them on social media as they ride elephants in India, run half marathons, and go on ridiculously long bike tours, all the while smiling and laughing. And once again, they brought smiles and laughter to the Treehouse.             Monet, named after the painter whose work her mother loves, showed up for breakfast on Saturday wearing a sweater with a buck on the front. I had to tell her that a neighbor had just shot a buck on our property that morning. She hadn’t heard the gunshots. “Should I change my sweater?” she asked. I told her if she wore a coat and a blaze orange cap, she’d be fine.      Monet works with the EF foundation matching European   young folks with au pair jobs in the States. With her bubbly personality, I imagine she makes au pairs feel right at home in their new jobs. Last year Nadir launched his own internet marketing business and works ou

             Up in the sky—is it a bird? (Newp) Is it a plane? (Newp) Is it Superman? (Well, sort of) Treehouse guest Ben is flying high with his new startup company, Altaeros Energies. The MIT grad has spent the last few years working on a new kind of windmill. It’s called a Bouyant Airborne Turbine. Made of sturdy industrial fabrics, the BAT looks sort of like a gigantic floating donut with fins. In the middle are blades that turn with the wind. The flying turbine, which Ben says is as big as our house, is tethered to the ground and strong enough to hold sensors that detect when helium levels are low—in which case it floats to the ground for “refueling”—wifi, and impact detectors in case a clumsy pigeon should fly into it. And, of course, a very long extension cord to supply electricity. Ben’s idea is to use the BAT not only for home power but especially for areas hit by natural disasters that have knocked out electricity—earthquakes, tornados, floods, and the like. Onc

                        Imagine you’re the oldest of four children in your family. The younger siblings get most of the attention, but your mom doesn’t want you to feel neglected. So when you’re five or six and more babies are coming along, she asks if you’d like ice skating lessons. The first time you take to the ice, something clicks. You’re hooked.             That’s what happened with Fern Forest Treehouse guest Caitria. The firstborn is always special. With the first child, everything changes. The bond is strong and enduring.             When Caitria turned ten, Julie wanted to do something special for her. A night in a treehouse—just the two of them—seemed the perfect thing.             When I was growing up in Virginia, I knew nothing about figure skating. My brothers and I played outdoors in the nearby creek or in friends’ yards. Parents didn’t spend a lot of time ferrying their kids to practices unless the teams were part of a school program. I didn’t

              Two folks from Ohio joined us at Fern Forest last weekend. When Meghan was hired to work in the student abroad office at a university, Ryan relocated with her and looked for employment. He had majored in criminology in college, thinking he’d do something in law enforcement. Boy, does he ever.             Ryan started his own commercial security company and has been hired by several department stores. One of them, a discount enterprise whose name I promised not to mention, kept him pretty active. Several times he watched a thief come in, pick up a forty-inch flat-screen TV in its box, and carry it out the front door without a glance toward the check-out lines. In broad daylight, mind you. Others filled one (or sometimes two) shopping carts with merchandise and wheeled out the goods, again without pulling out so much as a library card for payment.             Ryan is muscular and fit, and those robbers were easy to chase down and wrestle to the ground.

Our new friend Addison is a fireball of energy. The only time I saw her still when she  visited Fern Forest Treehouse was when she was watching videos of mischievous cats on H’s iPad. Her jumpiness is fine with us. Addie is an eight-year-old athletic marvel. The only girl on her Little League team, she made the All-Star list this past season. Next year she wants to be the pitcher. She also plays basketball, soccer, does gymnastics, and swims.             Boy, does she swim! Her grandparents Gail and Craig took her to a local swimming hole on the New Haven River on Saturday. From the overhead bridge, an old rope hangs that swimmers used to jump from, but someone attached a new rope that’s longer and sturdier, and that’s what folks use now to swing and drop into the deep pool under the bridge. Addie did that a few times before she got bored. Then she grabbed the rope, swung out, and leaped from the new rope to the old one, swung again and finally let go for a plunge into th

What is it about Fern Forest Treehouse that inspires romance? Fireman Tom and his girlfriend Jessica have been together for four years. Tom’s mother has been bugging him about popping the question. He thought a treehouse in Vermont provided a good opportunity. Saturday morning they were both up at 6:30 a.m. Oh dear, I thought. The bacon wasn’t even fried yet. But Tom said, “We’re going to climb a mountain before breakfast.” A mountain? Before breakfast? Okay, I guess there was no hurry to cook the eggs. As it turned out, it was a small mountain, and they were back by nine o’clock. H and I served them in the dining room, and from the kitchen we heard them giggling. Later I noticed a huge diamond ring on Jessica’s finger. “What’s this?” I asked. She grinned. They had hiked to the top of Deerleap and sat on a ledge overlooking Lake Champlain. That’s where Tom took the leap. Jessica works at a nursing home in Massachusetts. She loves the residents with dementia because they hav

            Treehouse guest Charles wrestled his way through Williams College and now coaches high school wrestling. He’s also an English teacher starting a new job in Boston next month near his girlfriend Alexis, who joined him in our lofty perch.             These Midwesterners brought their affability with them to the east as well as their affinity for sports. Sure, they wanted to have a romantic, relaxing time for a few days (and Charles did relax on the deck with his laptop), but the World Cup was on, and Argentina was playing Switzerland. Alexis was born in the USA, but her parents moved to the Chicago area from Argentina. We all know whom she was rooting for.               We gathered around the television to watch, chatting and nibbling hummus and crackers. After Argentina’s victory (and an excited phone call to Alexis’s parents), the two drove up the river to a pretty swimming hole on the New Haven for a dip on this hot first day of July. They were back in time to ca

                   I honestly think I should start a Treehouse dating service. Remember Sue, the single mom who recently visited Fern Forest with her son Cole? Before they unpacked their knapsacks in the Treehouse, Sue and Cole had climbed Camels Hump, one of Vermont’s highest mountains. Last week single dad Greg biked to Fern Forest with his son Kelly and daughter Chloe—a steep seven miles uphill, bikes loaded with two nights worth of overnight gear. The day before, they had biked fifteen miles from Vergennes to stay at an inn in Bristol.             Cole and Kelly are both nine, and Chloe is eleven. Both Greg and Sue like to be fit, and they like to challenge their children to match their enthusiasm for outdoor adventure. Their kids met the challenge and passed with flying colors.             It seemed a perfect match—except that Sue is in Boston and Greg lives in Toronto.             But on Monday the focus was on Greg and his two amazing children. Chloe acts and sings in

              I’ve fallen in love —with a nine-year-old freckle-faced boy named Cole. He’s tall for his age, the second tallest in his third grade class and his red hair is casually mussed. When he grows up, he wants to be an artist. And an athlete, but he hasn’t decided what sport he’ll pursue. At the moment he likes lacrosse. And basketball. And swimming. And running. But he’s not too keen on baseball.               Cole’s mom Susan surprised him with an end-of-the-school year visit to Fern Forest Treehouse. She and Cole have just finished building a treehouse in their own yard in New Hampshire, and Cole is looking forward to sleeping in it. There are screens but no windows to close, and he and his friends will be high and dry as long as it doesn’t rain. They’ll unroll sleeping bags on the floor and use flashlights to see after it gets dark. Sleeping in a treehouse with windows, electric lights and a real bed was pretty cushy.             Sue and Cole had climbed Camel’s

             I’ve heard that the third time’s the charm, and Bettina and Doug’s third visit to Fern Forest Treehouse was nothing short of charming. It’s fascinating how you get to know people even though you see them only once a year. Three springs ago they came to us newly married, Bettina recovering from chemo for breast cancer. She was fragile, and Doug hovered around her, making sure she ate the right things—she had become a vegan in her recovery—and didn’t exert herself. They seemed to be getting to know each other, and we gave them space and quiet to do just that.             On their second visit, Bettina was much stronger, her humor showing through. A family of squirrels was nesting in the rafters of the treehouse, which bothered Doug (would have bothered me, too), and Bettina teased him about being a city boy. They had adopted a puppy, a curly furred little guy they named Winston Churchill, and it was Winnie who was more bothered by the squirrels than was Doug.

                  Sagar's  girlfriend was visiting from India and flying back on Friday. Could they come to the Treehouse on Tuesday?   Normally we don’t take guests at Fern Forest Treehouse during the week, but h ow could we refuse? I’m glad we didn’t. Sagar met Jahnvi through an ashram where they were practicing their religion of Jainism, one of the oldest faiths on earth. Tuesday evening over carrot sticks, hummus and apple cider (they don't drink alcohol), they told us about being Indian, being a Jain, and being in love.  Jahnvi is a civil engineer in Bombay, as she refers to her home city. Mumbai, the richest and most densely populated city in India, was renamed in 1995 because Indian leaders wanted a less English sounding name. The Indian word Mumbai comes from the Koli goddess Mumbadevi who defeated a malicious giant. Since Jahnvi grew up in the city where her father is in the real estate business, she still uses the older name. Her job in this urban a