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
		What\’s With This Weather?
Tomorrow will be the third day in a row of temperatures in the high 80s/low 90s. The plant life around here is revved up to max: the irises have shot
Other Indians
In the 1950s, Santo Domingo de los Colorados* was a village ( it\’s a city now) in the western part of Ecuador, between the Andes and the Pacific Ocean. It
First Indians
We saw them right away, walking by the side of the highway between the airport and Quito. He was trotting along on a donkey, wearing calf-length pants, a poncho, a
First Flight
It was 1954, and we were leaving. We were taking off. We were going to America.* The America we were going to was in the South–Ecuador. I was only ten
Wattle Fence Finished, And Other News
It was a long job and hard on the fingernails, but it\’s done. The wattle fence looks like it was made by a drunken, learning-disabled Saxon peasant, but it fulfills
If I Have To Type Another Password…
…or my e-mail address, or my username, I\’m going to give up all electronic means of communication and go back to pen and paper. I have been trying to leave
Dining With Mrs. Beaton
We\’re having leftovers tonight–boeuf bourguignon (which improves with age) for him, salmon quiche (which doesn\’t) pour moi, with a fresh salad from the garden. This gives me leisure to revisit
A Call For Polygamy
At the moment, there are three and a half dozen eggs in my fridge. Tomorrow there will be almost four dozen. The girls are out on pasture and enjoying the
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
		What\’s With This Weather?
Tomorrow will be the third day in a row of temperatures in the high 80s/low 90s. The plant life around here is revved up to max: the irises have shot
Other Indians
In the 1950s, Santo Domingo de los Colorados* was a village ( it\’s a city now) in the western part of Ecuador, between the Andes and the Pacific Ocean. It
First Indians
We saw them right away, walking by the side of the highway between the airport and Quito. He was trotting along on a donkey, wearing calf-length pants, a poncho, a
First Flight
It was 1954, and we were leaving. We were taking off. We were going to America.* The America we were going to was in the South–Ecuador. I was only ten
Wattle Fence Finished, And Other News
It was a long job and hard on the fingernails, but it\’s done. The wattle fence looks like it was made by a drunken, learning-disabled Saxon peasant, but it fulfills
If I Have To Type Another Password…
…or my e-mail address, or my username, I\’m going to give up all electronic means of communication and go back to pen and paper. I have been trying to leave
Dining With Mrs. Beaton
We\’re having leftovers tonight–boeuf bourguignon (which improves with age) for him, salmon quiche (which doesn\’t) pour moi, with a fresh salad from the garden. This gives me leisure to revisit
A Call For Polygamy
At the moment, there are three and a half dozen eggs in my fridge. Tomorrow there will be almost four dozen. The girls are out on pasture and enjoying the