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
Right Livelihood
Bear with me for a moment while I show off about my dog Wolfie. As I mentioned here before, I took him for a herding instinct evaluation last month and
Little Herb Woman
When my grandchildren come to visit, I have a limited repertory of amusements to offer. I am a country grandmother, as my own grandmother was, and don\’t have much in
Voices
One by air and four by ground, my descendants departed yesterday, and with them the voices, high and low, that had echoed in my mind for a week and a
Rainy Day Grandparenting
Playing checkers.Playing War.Watching half an hour (no more!) of cartoons.Brushing the goats.Watching the goats go to the bathroom, right where they live.Reading stories.Looking out the window.Looking at Wolfie\’s teeth.Watching the
Company Weather
It rains, then the sun comes out. Then it rains, then the sun comes out. Then it rains…. This is NOT acceptable. My descendants, including Violette and Remy, are coming
Man Does Not Live By Bread Alone…
…nor critters by kibble, hay, grain, laying mash, or fish pellets. I spend a good deal of time administering all these things, and then cleaning up the resulting poop. But
Buying Honey
We were on our way back from Bennington the other day, when I saw the sign in front of a small house, “Honey For Sale.” “Stop!” I yelled, and we
Five Memories Of My Father
1. The feel of his mustache on my neck. 2. His gray hat and his winter coat, which made his head and shoulders look gigantic. 3. Sitting on his lap
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
Right Livelihood
Bear with me for a moment while I show off about my dog Wolfie. As I mentioned here before, I took him for a herding instinct evaluation last month and
Little Herb Woman
When my grandchildren come to visit, I have a limited repertory of amusements to offer. I am a country grandmother, as my own grandmother was, and don\’t have much in
Voices
One by air and four by ground, my descendants departed yesterday, and with them the voices, high and low, that had echoed in my mind for a week and a
Rainy Day Grandparenting
Playing checkers.Playing War.Watching half an hour (no more!) of cartoons.Brushing the goats.Watching the goats go to the bathroom, right where they live.Reading stories.Looking out the window.Looking at Wolfie\’s teeth.Watching the
Company Weather
It rains, then the sun comes out. Then it rains, then the sun comes out. Then it rains…. This is NOT acceptable. My descendants, including Violette and Remy, are coming
Man Does Not Live By Bread Alone…
…nor critters by kibble, hay, grain, laying mash, or fish pellets. I spend a good deal of time administering all these things, and then cleaning up the resulting poop. But
Buying Honey
We were on our way back from Bennington the other day, when I saw the sign in front of a small house, “Honey For Sale.” “Stop!” I yelled, and we
Five Memories Of My Father
1. The feel of his mustache on my neck. 2. His gray hat and his winter coat, which made his head and shoulders look gigantic. 3. Sitting on his lap