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
Health Fashions
When I was born, the midwife laid me in the bassinet, on my back. \”This is how the child must sleep,\” she informed my mother. \”Or she will die.\” When
The Andalusian Fisherman and the American Tourist
Here is a story my mother used to tell: An Andalusian fisherman was lying on the warm sand next to his boat. Earlier, he had brought in a load of
Embarrassing Embroideries
This appalling piece of work looks like it was made by a drunk person, doesn\’t it? Note the wobbly lines, the unfinished rows, the uneven spacing, the stains, the pathetic
Unfathomable Mysteries of the Cavalier Mind
Bisou has a new friend, a big, blond Cavalier fellow named L***.Whenever they see each other, they fall into each other\’s arms, like Tristan and Isolde after drinking the magic wine.
Life\’s Too Short
I was scrubbing away at my once-white sofa with one of those magic eraser thingies the other day when I suddenly stopped in mid-stroke. Life\’s too short to be doing
Magpie Cat
These days, when you walk into my house, you are met with a barrage of warnings:\”Better hide that scarf inside your coat pocket, or the cat will play with the
Bag Balm as Metaphor
Driving down Vermont country roads these days I often see a sight that breaks my heart: a small dairy farm in the process of dying. It happens in slow motion:
Some Pesky Paradoxes
I have been tormented of late by a quote from the Prajnaparamita Sutra: \”Live with skillful nonchalance and ceaseless concern.\” I can do the second part just fine, since ceaseless
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
Health Fashions
When I was born, the midwife laid me in the bassinet, on my back. \”This is how the child must sleep,\” she informed my mother. \”Or she will die.\” When
The Andalusian Fisherman and the American Tourist
Here is a story my mother used to tell: An Andalusian fisherman was lying on the warm sand next to his boat. Earlier, he had brought in a load of
Embarrassing Embroideries
This appalling piece of work looks like it was made by a drunk person, doesn\’t it? Note the wobbly lines, the unfinished rows, the uneven spacing, the stains, the pathetic
Unfathomable Mysteries of the Cavalier Mind
Bisou has a new friend, a big, blond Cavalier fellow named L***.Whenever they see each other, they fall into each other\’s arms, like Tristan and Isolde after drinking the magic wine.
Life\’s Too Short
I was scrubbing away at my once-white sofa with one of those magic eraser thingies the other day when I suddenly stopped in mid-stroke. Life\’s too short to be doing
Magpie Cat
These days, when you walk into my house, you are met with a barrage of warnings:\”Better hide that scarf inside your coat pocket, or the cat will play with the
Bag Balm as Metaphor
Driving down Vermont country roads these days I often see a sight that breaks my heart: a small dairy farm in the process of dying. It happens in slow motion:
Some Pesky Paradoxes
I have been tormented of late by a quote from the Prajnaparamita Sutra: \”Live with skillful nonchalance and ceaseless concern.\” I can do the second part just fine, since ceaseless