my green vermont

Subscribe For My Latest Posts:

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. Got bored with teaching, took up running, and went into higher ed administration. 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.

Latest Posts

The Bird Feeder’s Lament

We took down the bird feeders the other day, and now I’m in withdrawal. Gone are my gray winter friends, the titmice, nuthatches, and chickadees that used to fly to

Read More »

Music for the Queen

     When the cellist Pau Casals was a child, he played for Queen Victoria. When he was an old man, and considered the finest musical interpreter of the 20th

Read More »

On Socks

I have sock issues. Living as I do in Vermont, I wear socks during most of the year, and they’re fine under boots. On not-so-frigid days I wear socks with

Read More »

My Father’s Silence (continued)

In my earliest memories, I am the center of a planetary system, a small but potent sun orbited by much larger satellites—parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. I got off to

Read More »

My Father’s Silence (continued)

The Spanish Civil War ended in 1939. On February 21st, Franco, escorted by his notorious Moorish Guard, entered Barcelona to lead a victory parade. Down the elegant Passeig de Gràcia

Read More »

My Father’s Silence

This was the only thing he ever said to me about those years: “We were all so hungry that at night, before going to bed, we would go to the

Read More »

Of Bra Straps And Bed Hair

I spent an unconscionable amount of time in my youth obsessing about bra straps. I could have been reading Proust or studying calculus, but instead I was worrying about whether

Read More »

Latest Posts

The Bird Feeder’s Lament

We took down the bird feeders the other day, and now I’m in withdrawal. Gone are my gray winter friends, the titmice, nuthatches, and chickadees that used to fly to

Read More »

Music for the Queen

     When the cellist Pau Casals was a child, he played for Queen Victoria. When he was an old man, and considered the finest musical interpreter of the 20th

Read More »

On Socks

I have sock issues. Living as I do in Vermont, I wear socks during most of the year, and they’re fine under boots. On not-so-frigid days I wear socks with

Read More »

My Father’s Silence (continued)

In my earliest memories, I am the center of a planetary system, a small but potent sun orbited by much larger satellites—parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. I got off to

Read More »

My Father’s Silence (continued)

The Spanish Civil War ended in 1939. On February 21st, Franco, escorted by his notorious Moorish Guard, entered Barcelona to lead a victory parade. Down the elegant Passeig de Gràcia

Read More »

My Father’s Silence

This was the only thing he ever said to me about those years: “We were all so hungry that at night, before going to bed, we would go to the

Read More »

Of Bra Straps And Bed Hair

I spent an unconscionable amount of time in my youth obsessing about bra straps. I could have been reading Proust or studying calculus, but instead I was worrying about whether

Read More »