A Treehouse, a little you-and-me house

Last week I took a break from Fern Forest to fly to Florida with H for some family bonding. My three brothers are scattered across the country, and I don’t see them very often, so Arizona brother Butch suggested we get a condo in Melbourne Beach and visit our older brother Ron, who’s been struggling with Meniere’s disease. Call me crazy for leaving Vermont in the summer to spend four days in the Sunshine State. Do not doubt that it was hot. But there was a beach and water and a moon full enough to watch a huge loggerhead sea turtle inch her way toward our patio one night to dig a hole and lay her eggs. (These are the tracks she left in the sand.) No matter how old I get or how many books I publish or how many years I teach at a university, I’m still “Sis” when I’m with my brothers. Growing up, Ron’s seat was next to mine at dinner and daily I got in trouble for squealing when he pinched my thigh. He pinched my thigh three times during our visit. He always had a fast car and still has a...

I like Taylor Swift, even if her songs are about high school melodramas. The lyrics of "You Belong With Me" remind me of Anna and John. Anna was a freshman in college with a boyfriend when she first saw John singing in the University of Virginia choir. His voice was distinguishable from the rest. “He’s good,” her boyfriend said.” And good looking, Anna thought. She was trying out for the chorus and knew a good voice when she heard one. John was an RA in Anna’s UVA dorm and took his assignment seriously. As a senior, he wasn’t about to get involved with an 18-year-old, even if she was tall and beautiful. Neverless, Anna held out hope. She broke up with her boyfriend and waited. She might have been singing along with Taylor: "If you could see that I'm the one who understands you / Been here all along so why can't you see? / You belong with me....

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...