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
Garlic Confessions
For me, the smell of garlic sauteeing gently in olive oil is the quintessential smell of food, of hearth and of home. No wonder: I was weaned on garlic soup.
Maple Syrup Time
Everything around here is still looking pretty sere, and if it weren\’t for the birds and the peepers and the occasional mosquito, we could still be in early March. But
The Joy Of Mulching
We filled our pickup truck with mulch hay today, and my spirits are soaring. Mulch, despite its icky name, always does that to me. Especially mulch hay. For one thing,
Guests, Then Goats
Yesterday we held the last salon of the season. There was a fine talk, clear and articulate, by a friend/reader/writer about the history of the spy novel. There was wine
Yoga And I
When I started doing yoga almost a decade ago, I threw myself into it with my usual fervor, determined to be the star of the class. As chimes tinkled in
The Lists Of Spring
Before the weather gets any warmer I must: 1. Finish planting spinach.2. Spread compost on garden.3. Feed Holly-Tone to the evergreens I planted last fall.4. Finish weeding backyard flowerbeds.5. Weed
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
Garlic Confessions
For me, the smell of garlic sauteeing gently in olive oil is the quintessential smell of food, of hearth and of home. No wonder: I was weaned on garlic soup.
Maple Syrup Time
Everything around here is still looking pretty sere, and if it weren\’t for the birds and the peepers and the occasional mosquito, we could still be in early March. But
The Joy Of Mulching
We filled our pickup truck with mulch hay today, and my spirits are soaring. Mulch, despite its icky name, always does that to me. Especially mulch hay. For one thing,
Guests, Then Goats
Yesterday we held the last salon of the season. There was a fine talk, clear and articulate, by a friend/reader/writer about the history of the spy novel. There was wine
Yoga And I
When I started doing yoga almost a decade ago, I threw myself into it with my usual fervor, determined to be the star of the class. As chimes tinkled in
The Lists Of Spring
Before the weather gets any warmer I must: 1. Finish planting spinach.2. Spread compost on garden.3. Feed Holly-Tone to the evergreens I planted last fall.4. Finish weeding backyard flowerbeds.5. Weed