Welcome to My Green Vermont
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. I got bored with teaching, took up running, and went into higher ed administration. I 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.
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
Not A Moment Too Soon
Today you can practically hear the hoof beats of spring galloping north toward our latitudes. Bright sun, blue sky, hens cackling, birds rejoicing. And the snow sinking, sinking into the
Sentient Beings Everywhere
I read somewhere–I think it was in a book by the herbalist Stephen Buehner–that when a field of clover is being overgrazed by sheep, the plants increase their production of
What Mozart Saw
\”Though … [Mozart] lived through the French Revolution you search his letters in vain for anything other than the most oblique references to this continental cataclysm. He had no feeling
Suddenly Summer
Well, it\’s hardly summer when the ground is still covered with snow, but the light more than makes up for the lingering chill. Oblivious of outside temperatures, my houseplants know
If It Sounds Good…
Somebody once asked Louis Armstrong what made a piece of music great. \”If it sounds good,\” he replied, \”it is good.\” Now there is a formula to put art critics
Concierge Dogs
(Still reading and appreciating your comments; still unable to respond!) I just finished a dark novel by Louise Erdrich, Shadow Tag, about artists and Indians, alcohol and fatal passions. My
Weird Blessings
My mother turned 93 last month. Last spring, after a lifetime of robust health, she became gravely ill. If someone had told my sister and me then that nine months
Spinach In The Snow
The post-blizzard sun was irresistible, so although I was weary from shoveling snow, I planted spinach today. The hardest part was trudging to the garden (a mere six yards from
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
Not A Moment Too Soon
Today you can practically hear the hoof beats of spring galloping north toward our latitudes. Bright sun, blue sky, hens cackling, birds rejoicing. And the snow sinking, sinking into the
Sentient Beings Everywhere
I read somewhere–I think it was in a book by the herbalist Stephen Buehner–that when a field of clover is being overgrazed by sheep, the plants increase their production of
What Mozart Saw
\”Though … [Mozart] lived through the French Revolution you search his letters in vain for anything other than the most oblique references to this continental cataclysm. He had no feeling
Suddenly Summer
Well, it\’s hardly summer when the ground is still covered with snow, but the light more than makes up for the lingering chill. Oblivious of outside temperatures, my houseplants know
If It Sounds Good…
Somebody once asked Louis Armstrong what made a piece of music great. \”If it sounds good,\” he replied, \”it is good.\” Now there is a formula to put art critics
Concierge Dogs
(Still reading and appreciating your comments; still unable to respond!) I just finished a dark novel by Louise Erdrich, Shadow Tag, about artists and Indians, alcohol and fatal passions. My
Weird Blessings
My mother turned 93 last month. Last spring, after a lifetime of robust health, she became gravely ill. If someone had told my sister and me then that nine months
Spinach In The Snow
The post-blizzard sun was irresistible, so although I was weary from shoveling snow, I planted spinach today. The hardest part was trudging to the garden (a mere six yards from