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I was born in Barcelona, where I went to a school run by German nuns, studied solfeggio, and played the violin. When I was ten, my parents and I moved to Ecuador, where I had a number of exotic pets and strange adventures. Four years later, we landed in Birmingham, Alabama. None of us spoke English, and the strange adventures continued. (Many of these appear in My Green Vermont.)
Survived high school. Got B.A. in French and Biology, Ph.D. in Romance Languages (French and Spanish). Gave up the Church and the violin, got married, had two daughters, taught at a liberal arts college in Maryland. Also grew veggies, made bread, kept chickens, milked goats, and wrote for newspapers and magazines. Got bored with teaching, took up running, and went into higher ed administration. Was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS), and learned to live in a totally different way.
I started My Green Vermont when we moved to that state. For ten years I lived with my spouse, three dogs, twelve hens, two goats, and assorted passing wildlife in a house on a hill, surrounded by fields and woods. In 2014, we moved to a cottage in a continuing care residential community near Lake Champlain. Gave up livestock and vegetable gardening in favor of wild birds, honeybees, a little red dog, and a gray cat.
My Green Vermont is a fertile compost pile made up of stories about the weirdness of growing up in three countries and three languages; portraits of beloved animals, both wild and domestic; and reflections on aging, being kind to the earth, and staying as calm as possible. I hope you will visit often, and add your own stories and reactions.
Coatless and sockless in the four o\’clock dusk, picking kale in the garden, I almost stepped on a woolly bear caterpillar that was crossing my path at a pretty good
There’s been a lot of talk about food in the Zeitgeist lately and, in these parts, talk about hunting: the local game supper (bear, deer, moose et al.); who shot
When my three dogs return from their stay at the B&B, they are delirious with exhaustion. Lexi walks into the house, gets a drink of water, lowers herself carefully down
Every ten years or so I try to read a book about vampires, and fail. I would like to be able to read vampire literature, since the fiction shelves of
A neighbor was going out to her compost pile one bright evening last July when, about forty feet away, she saw an animal lying down with its back to her.
I\’ve always been a \”forest\” rather than a \”trees\” kind of person; more macro than micro; more into ends than means. Something inside me always propelled me to get the
Days are short now, and chilly, and lighting the wood stove in the evening feels more like a luxury than a chore. I sit on the sofa, my feet on
I butchered my crop of seven pumpkins a few days ago. \”Butcher\” is the proper term for something that requires a strong stomach as well as strong muscles. Mind you,
Coatless and sockless in the four o\’clock dusk, picking kale in the garden, I almost stepped on a woolly bear caterpillar that was crossing my path at a pretty good
There’s been a lot of talk about food in the Zeitgeist lately and, in these parts, talk about hunting: the local game supper (bear, deer, moose et al.); who shot
When my three dogs return from their stay at the B&B, they are delirious with exhaustion. Lexi walks into the house, gets a drink of water, lowers herself carefully down
Every ten years or so I try to read a book about vampires, and fail. I would like to be able to read vampire literature, since the fiction shelves of
A neighbor was going out to her compost pile one bright evening last July when, about forty feet away, she saw an animal lying down with its back to her.
I\’ve always been a \”forest\” rather than a \”trees\” kind of person; more macro than micro; more into ends than means. Something inside me always propelled me to get the
Days are short now, and chilly, and lighting the wood stove in the evening feels more like a luxury than a chore. I sit on the sofa, my feet on
I butchered my crop of seven pumpkins a few days ago. \”Butcher\” is the proper term for something that requires a strong stomach as well as strong muscles. Mind you,