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
A Warning To Local Wildlife
If you are a painted turtle: I can\’t imagine what impels you every spring to leave the secluded swamp and claw your way uphill, across our backyard, and down the
Why I Dread Open Studio Weekend
Back in February, when I committed to participate in it, Open Studio Weekend was just a wisp of a cloud in my otherwise sunny horizon. As winter melted slowly into
Rhubarb Days
(Blogger doesn\’t seem to want to do paragraph breaks today, possibly because there\’s a storm? I apologize.) Several days ago I complained here that heritage breeds of chickens are
Les Verts Monts
It\’s been raining and raining, and it\’s supposed to rain some more. Vermont is living up to its original French name: les verts monts, the green mountains. Where just a
I Give Up On Creeping Thyme
Between our driveway and the main front door of the house, there is a stone walk. Nobody uses the main front door, which leads into a proper entrance hall. Instead,
News Of Fin And Feather
There is pathetically little to say on the fin front. About ten days ago, I bought two shubunkin (a kind of multicolored Japanese gold fish that looks like a small
In Which I Resurrect The Comments That Blogger Lost
As you may know, Blogger has been on the blink, but is now running again. In the process, Blogger lost the comments to my last post, \”Long Books.\” The comments
Long Books
There is nothing I like better than a long book these days. Don\’t you? I am currently immersed in Robertson Davies\’s The Deptford Trilogy. Davies is (was–alas, he died in
My Green Vermont
Latest Posts
A Warning To Local Wildlife
If you are a painted turtle: I can\’t imagine what impels you every spring to leave the secluded swamp and claw your way uphill, across our backyard, and down the
Why I Dread Open Studio Weekend
Back in February, when I committed to participate in it, Open Studio Weekend was just a wisp of a cloud in my otherwise sunny horizon. As winter melted slowly into
Rhubarb Days
(Blogger doesn\’t seem to want to do paragraph breaks today, possibly because there\’s a storm? I apologize.) Several days ago I complained here that heritage breeds of chickens are
Les Verts Monts
It\’s been raining and raining, and it\’s supposed to rain some more. Vermont is living up to its original French name: les verts monts, the green mountains. Where just a
I Give Up On Creeping Thyme
Between our driveway and the main front door of the house, there is a stone walk. Nobody uses the main front door, which leads into a proper entrance hall. Instead,
News Of Fin And Feather
There is pathetically little to say on the fin front. About ten days ago, I bought two shubunkin (a kind of multicolored Japanese gold fish that looks like a small
In Which I Resurrect The Comments That Blogger Lost
As you may know, Blogger has been on the blink, but is now running again. In the process, Blogger lost the comments to my last post, \”Long Books.\” The comments
Long Books
There is nothing I like better than a long book these days. Don\’t you? I am currently immersed in Robertson Davies\’s The Deptford Trilogy. Davies is (was–alas, he died in