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
December, 2008 “Dressing Up”
I miss dressing up every day. Although I used to work in academia, where down-at-the-heel looks were considered a sign of intellectual rigor, I could never embrace that aspect of
December, 2008 “Now It Begins…”
We are encased in ice. All that is mineral or vegetable is covered on every surface with a gorgeous, glittering, deadly coat of ice. The kind of ice that causes
December 2008 “Snow Emergency”
The weatherman today announced the first real snow storm of the season. Five inches, plus ice and anticipated power outages. The indoors time is upon us. I took the dogs
December, 2008 “Rhubarb Bread”
Six Loaves, No Fishes Every morning for breakfast I eat a slice of rhubarb or zucchini bread. I\’ve been making the stuff for years, six loaves at a time, from
December, 2008 “On Gloom”
The word “gloom” is onomatopoeic, like “crash” or “bump.” Just listen to that nauseous initial “gl,” followed by the prolonged mournful “oo.” And no sooner are you over that than
December 7, 2008 “Subverting Simplicity”
The question came up in conversation the other day about what I would do if I had lots of money. And for a while, I couldn\’t come up with anything.
December 6, 2008 “Hens in Winter”
I think I might be running an industrial egg farm. It hasn\’t been going on for long, but who knows when it will end? Here are the circumstances that led
December 4, 2008 “Buddy Holly, My English Teacher”
The first thing my father bought upon arriving in Birmingham, Alabama, was a radio. A classical musician, he was a passionate jazz aficionado, and assumed that, since Birmingham was in
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
December, 2008 “Dressing Up”
I miss dressing up every day. Although I used to work in academia, where down-at-the-heel looks were considered a sign of intellectual rigor, I could never embrace that aspect of
December, 2008 “Now It Begins…”
We are encased in ice. All that is mineral or vegetable is covered on every surface with a gorgeous, glittering, deadly coat of ice. The kind of ice that causes
December 2008 “Snow Emergency”
The weatherman today announced the first real snow storm of the season. Five inches, plus ice and anticipated power outages. The indoors time is upon us. I took the dogs
December, 2008 “Rhubarb Bread”
Six Loaves, No Fishes Every morning for breakfast I eat a slice of rhubarb or zucchini bread. I\’ve been making the stuff for years, six loaves at a time, from
December, 2008 “On Gloom”
The word “gloom” is onomatopoeic, like “crash” or “bump.” Just listen to that nauseous initial “gl,” followed by the prolonged mournful “oo.” And no sooner are you over that than
December 7, 2008 “Subverting Simplicity”
The question came up in conversation the other day about what I would do if I had lots of money. And for a while, I couldn\’t come up with anything.
December 6, 2008 “Hens in Winter”
I think I might be running an industrial egg farm. It hasn\’t been going on for long, but who knows when it will end? Here are the circumstances that led
December 4, 2008 “Buddy Holly, My English Teacher”
The first thing my father bought upon arriving in Birmingham, Alabama, was a radio. A classical musician, he was a passionate jazz aficionado, and assumed that, since Birmingham was in