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
Socializing Puppies
Because the roads between her house and mine were passable, and her twelve-week-old Cavalier puppies needed to be exposed to big dogs, my friend brought three of Bisou\’s half siblings
After Irene: Vermont\’s Apple Trees
In the long litany of disasters that fills our eyes and ears these days–houses washed away, roads caved in, seven covered bridges destroyed–that other Vermont icon, the apple tree, is
H Is For Hurricane, Hurrying Here
We\’ve been practicing for Irene for the last week, with two prolonged power outages brought on by relatively minor storms. Now that we have a generator, we are spared the
G Is For Glad
…so glad I finished construction of my tabs. You can now see my sculpture and illustrations, and read a speeded up version of my life and miracles. And you can
F Is For Food
…and also for Fate, which has decreed that our garage shall be devoured by porcupines. In June, our drawn-out battles with the porcupine who\’d been eating the garage all spring
Summer Of Love, 1967
It was a hot and muggy summer in Alabama. In the afternoon, terrific thunderstorms would roll in. Skirts were short, hair was long, and \”Puff, the Magic Dragon,\” with its
Requiem For A Squash Vine
My vegetable garden is going to hell in a hand basket. Well, not the whole garden, but the two beds in which I planted a delicata and a butternut squash
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
Socializing Puppies
Because the roads between her house and mine were passable, and her twelve-week-old Cavalier puppies needed to be exposed to big dogs, my friend brought three of Bisou\’s half siblings
After Irene: Vermont\’s Apple Trees
In the long litany of disasters that fills our eyes and ears these days–houses washed away, roads caved in, seven covered bridges destroyed–that other Vermont icon, the apple tree, is
H Is For Hurricane, Hurrying Here
We\’ve been practicing for Irene for the last week, with two prolonged power outages brought on by relatively minor storms. Now that we have a generator, we are spared the
G Is For Glad
…so glad I finished construction of my tabs. You can now see my sculpture and illustrations, and read a speeded up version of my life and miracles. And you can
F Is For Food
…and also for Fate, which has decreed that our garage shall be devoured by porcupines. In June, our drawn-out battles with the porcupine who\’d been eating the garage all spring
Summer Of Love, 1967
It was a hot and muggy summer in Alabama. In the afternoon, terrific thunderstorms would roll in. Skirts were short, hair was long, and \”Puff, the Magic Dragon,\” with its
Requiem For A Squash Vine
My vegetable garden is going to hell in a hand basket. Well, not the whole garden, but the two beds in which I planted a delicata and a butternut squash