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
Rock or Lion?
Every morning, while my uncle hitched the ancient farm horse to the cart, my grandmother would come out of the kitchen to supervise. \”That horse,\” she would say, shaking her
Of Uncles And Equines
My favorite uncle, the husband of my grandmother’s sister, was that rarity: a schoolmaster who adored kids. Early in our acquaintance we cast each other in roles which we never
Relativity, continued
Now I am fifteen, sitting in my American History class, in a Catholic high school in the Deep South. I am a little nervous because we are studying the discovery
Relativity
\”You, Benejam, stand up, please,\” says Madre Mercedes del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús (\”Corazón,\” for short). \”Tell us what you think about what I have just said.\” She teaches the fifth-grade class
Birds In Blizzard
While the nor\’easter rages outside, I\’m watching the birds at the feeder under the eaves. Long past the time when they usually retire to their roosts, they\’re flying in for
Paper Protest
Ten nasty, persistent women, one (v. nice) man, and a little red dog spent Sunday afternoon writing messages to the President, in anticipation of #TheIdesofTrump. Bisou wrote a card of
Don\’t Link, Think!
At breakfast, sipping coffee, I said to my spouse, \”Did you hear that thing on NPR about cyborgs?\” \”What about them?\” he asked, measuring honey into green tea. If this
Feeding the Furniture
It\’s the depths of winter in Vermont. The deer in their deer yards and the bears in their dens are using up the last of their fat reserves. By this
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
Rock or Lion?
Every morning, while my uncle hitched the ancient farm horse to the cart, my grandmother would come out of the kitchen to supervise. \”That horse,\” she would say, shaking her
Of Uncles And Equines
My favorite uncle, the husband of my grandmother’s sister, was that rarity: a schoolmaster who adored kids. Early in our acquaintance we cast each other in roles which we never
Relativity, continued
Now I am fifteen, sitting in my American History class, in a Catholic high school in the Deep South. I am a little nervous because we are studying the discovery
Relativity
\”You, Benejam, stand up, please,\” says Madre Mercedes del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús (\”Corazón,\” for short). \”Tell us what you think about what I have just said.\” She teaches the fifth-grade class
Birds In Blizzard
While the nor\’easter rages outside, I\’m watching the birds at the feeder under the eaves. Long past the time when they usually retire to their roosts, they\’re flying in for
Paper Protest
Ten nasty, persistent women, one (v. nice) man, and a little red dog spent Sunday afternoon writing messages to the President, in anticipation of #TheIdesofTrump. Bisou wrote a card of
Don\’t Link, Think!
At breakfast, sipping coffee, I said to my spouse, \”Did you hear that thing on NPR about cyborgs?\” \”What about them?\” he asked, measuring honey into green tea. If this
Feeding the Furniture
It\’s the depths of winter in Vermont. The deer in their deer yards and the bears in their dens are using up the last of their fat reserves. By this