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
Fish Encore
Someone who knows me well once said that I cannot rest unless I have a certain quota of critters around me. When I lost a cat long ago, I put
Tick Attack!
We are under siege by creatures the size of fly poop. Like Agamemnon\’s army they surround our house on all sides, dropping down on us from the trees if we
Happiness In Tragic Times
In northern latitudes, these early spring days bring on happiness as a physiological imperative. There is birdsong in the air, and frogs chasing each other in the pond. We go
Be Careful What You Wish For
When the days started getting noticeably longer back in February, I wrote a post imploring spring to hold back so I could enjoy the break from gardening a while longer:
Dressing For Sundown
You never know what you\’ll hear on NPR. A couple of days ago there was a story about a man who hangs out on street corners in New York looking
Blogging in the ER
You know how it is in American medical circles: you say the word \”twinge,\” followed by the word \”chest\” and, if you\’re male and in your 60s, the cardiovascular care
Plastic Nations
When I was in middle-school in Ecuador, in the late 1950s, it became fashionable among the girls in my class to carry books in transparent plastic bags. Even among the
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
Fish Encore
Someone who knows me well once said that I cannot rest unless I have a certain quota of critters around me. When I lost a cat long ago, I put
Tick Attack!
We are under siege by creatures the size of fly poop. Like Agamemnon\’s army they surround our house on all sides, dropping down on us from the trees if we
Happiness In Tragic Times
In northern latitudes, these early spring days bring on happiness as a physiological imperative. There is birdsong in the air, and frogs chasing each other in the pond. We go
Be Careful What You Wish For
When the days started getting noticeably longer back in February, I wrote a post imploring spring to hold back so I could enjoy the break from gardening a while longer:
Dressing For Sundown
You never know what you\’ll hear on NPR. A couple of days ago there was a story about a man who hangs out on street corners in New York looking
Blogging in the ER
You know how it is in American medical circles: you say the word \”twinge,\” followed by the word \”chest\” and, if you\’re male and in your 60s, the cardiovascular care
Plastic Nations
When I was in middle-school in Ecuador, in the late 1950s, it became fashionable among the girls in my class to carry books in transparent plastic bags. Even among the