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

Prayers and Fasting for Ukraine
I used to be a prayer athlete. As a girl, my days were punctuated by prayers. I prayed when I got up, before I went to bed, before meals, and

My Disobedient Saint
Saint Eulalia, virgin and martyr, was a thirteen-year-old girl who, in 303 CE, ran away from her wealthy parents’ house in the outskirts of Barcelona and presented herself at the

A Rose-Free Valentine’s Day
Over the last half-century I have received dozens of Valentine’s Day roses from my best-beloved. Year after year they would appear at the breakfast table, and I would smile and

The Tyranny of Objects
I am sitting in my sunroom, surrounded by three overwintering geraniums, two spider plants, a Christmas cactus in need of repotting, a large pink ti plant, and a giant peace

My Squirrel-Proof Suet Feeder
I am a battle-scarred survivor of the squirrel suet wars. My wounds are invisible, since no squirrel has ever laid a finger on me, but the years of failed attempts

Death by Ducks
You know how, when you’re crossing items off your to-do list, just as you’re about to finish the last one you get an email, or a phone call, or a

The Matrilineal Omelet
During my childhood in Barcelona, every night at 10 p.m., Spanish dinner time, we would eat an omelet. We had had the main meal at lunch: soup, followed by fish,

Feline Minuet
It’s almost midnight, and I am at that point in the falling-asleep process when rational thought takes off in quirky directions: I am helping a team of surgeons to perform
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts

Prayers and Fasting for Ukraine
I used to be a prayer athlete. As a girl, my days were punctuated by prayers. I prayed when I got up, before I went to bed, before meals, and

My Disobedient Saint
Saint Eulalia, virgin and martyr, was a thirteen-year-old girl who, in 303 CE, ran away from her wealthy parents’ house in the outskirts of Barcelona and presented herself at the

A Rose-Free Valentine’s Day
Over the last half-century I have received dozens of Valentine’s Day roses from my best-beloved. Year after year they would appear at the breakfast table, and I would smile and

The Tyranny of Objects
I am sitting in my sunroom, surrounded by three overwintering geraniums, two spider plants, a Christmas cactus in need of repotting, a large pink ti plant, and a giant peace

My Squirrel-Proof Suet Feeder
I am a battle-scarred survivor of the squirrel suet wars. My wounds are invisible, since no squirrel has ever laid a finger on me, but the years of failed attempts

Death by Ducks
You know how, when you’re crossing items off your to-do list, just as you’re about to finish the last one you get an email, or a phone call, or a

The Matrilineal Omelet
During my childhood in Barcelona, every night at 10 p.m., Spanish dinner time, we would eat an omelet. We had had the main meal at lunch: soup, followed by fish,

Feline Minuet
It’s almost midnight, and I am at that point in the falling-asleep process when rational thought takes off in quirky directions: I am helping a team of surgeons to perform