Frog Trouble Times

Have you ever hiked Max Patch, the wildflower-strewn bald mountain on the North Carolina/Tennessee border & along the Appalachian Trail? It’s an easy hike, less than a mile loop and not very strenuous! But also gorgeous, amazing, a place to fly kites, enjoy picnics, read books, take photos, and pretend to be Maria Von Trapp.

I think a lot of FTT readers are in the same place I am, the place of remembering our fathers and grandfathers rather than bringing them cards or ties or T-shirts. I miss my dad very much, but I can still hear his voice. Sometimes I’ll ask my writing students to brainstorm some of the daily language they grew up around, especially the sayings, and then we collect them on the board.

Our dear brilliant friend Tift Merritt has a new album, Sugar, coming out this month. Tift, as you may know, is an amazing person. Mom to 10-year-old Jean, Practitioner-In-Residence at Duke University’s Franklin Humanities Institute, writer, songwriter, scholar, organizer, teacher-of-songwriting and artist-who-tours (sometimes). Authentic beauty who makes everything around her more beautiful and authentic.

plus tell UNC: Follow your own rules, hire Dr. Asher We’re lucky to belong to a neighborhood pool, which we joined a few years ago. It’s about a twelve minute drive away, technically in Chapel Hill, and is where we see a lot of the country kids who go to Harriet’s school. It’s not fancy but we love it: the snack bar serves Impossible burgers, BLTs, and KitKat cones; there are loungers and umbrellas; and the high dive is finally fixed.

reflections on shade gardens, higher ed, and my dad One of the many values my dad instilled in me was respect for other people’s work, especially when it differs from your own. I can remember his annoyance after he recommended an excellent HVAC installer to one of his friends (an artist with three houses), and that friend balked at the price. “It’s not brain surgery!” the guy said. “Okay then, you do it,” my dad said.

Greetings and Happy Mother’s Day, Frog Troublers! Would you like to hear about the worst thing I’ve done in my 12 1/2 years of being a mom? Of course you do! Other people’s mistakes are interesting, plus finding out what other people consider “really bad” can be illuminating about our own worst things.

Harriet’s 8th birthday was this past Tuesday, also the last day of class at NC State. Because the two buffering weekends were packed—trip to California last weekend and Girl Scout Camporee this Saturday—we decided to have a day-of, ride-the-bus-home birthday party on the actual day Harriet was born. Having knocked myself out for many a Saturday park party, tumble gym party, climbing wall party, etc, I have to say I’m a fan of the weekday celebration.

Do you ever read those “36 hours in [some faraway locale]” travel stories and think, “who goes to ___ for 36 hours?” Well, Frog Troublers, we were those glamorous fools this week, traveling to Venice Beach, California for just two nights to see the girls’ Aunt Joy, Uncle Jason, and baby cousin Lucy and to travel for bus-book research and my MFA program’s 60th anniversary. It was very moving to see my friends and teachers—all five graduates from my year (2002!) came back for the reunion.

Do you watch The Pitt? Each season is a real-time account of fifteen hours at a busy emergency room in Pittsburgh. It’s pretty bloody—Bea and I had to overcome a certain amount of squeamishness (the very first trauma in season one makes an intern pass out), but the pacing, realism, and amazing cast hooked us. Season two, which takes place on the fourth of July, felt “a little boring,” according to Bea, who’d enjoyed the longer through-line mysteries of season one.

There is a bird’s nest in my bike helmet! It has five eggs in it. The eggs are pink with red spots. The nest has pine needles, leaves, twigs, moss, and pollen. It is fun to see the eggs. It is also so exciting to think that the baby birds inside will hatch and grow up. Daddy says they are probably Carolina wrens. These little birds nest in hanging baskets sometimes. My helmet was hanging on a hook outside our door, under the roof, so the nest stays dry.