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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.
Although things seem to be going well for our candidate, we cat ladies shouldn’t count our chickens before they hatch. Since we need all the help we can get, I
I find the leotards worn by women gymnasts distracting, so that while they are defying gravity and other laws of Nature, I ruminate about issues that I thought had been
So you think that we’re miserable, bitter, and sad, all alone with our kitties, and wishing we had had the sense to go after the love of a lad with
It’s important to do yoga on a regular basis. There is nothing like it for flexibility and balance. I should do it first thing in the morning, every morning. Maintaining
My little red Cavalier, Bisou, just turned fifteen. Her coat is still shiny, her appetite excellent, her joints supple. Her heart is almost murmur-free, which for her breed is practically
Dies irae… I have experienced many days of politically induced ire since 2016, but nothing like this summer. Until the debate my wrath was focused on “the other guy,” with
I’ll get to the wood thrush in a moment, but first: on a January day in 2007, during morning rush hour, the fabulous violinist Joshua Bell, dressed in jeans and
Although things seem to be going well for our candidate, we cat ladies shouldn’t count our chickens before they hatch. Since we need all the help we can get, I
I find the leotards worn by women gymnasts distracting, so that while they are defying gravity and other laws of Nature, I ruminate about issues that I thought had been
So you think that we’re miserable, bitter, and sad, all alone with our kitties, and wishing we had had the sense to go after the love of a lad with
It’s important to do yoga on a regular basis. There is nothing like it for flexibility and balance. I should do it first thing in the morning, every morning. Maintaining
My little red Cavalier, Bisou, just turned fifteen. Her coat is still shiny, her appetite excellent, her joints supple. Her heart is almost murmur-free, which for her breed is practically
Dies irae… I have experienced many days of politically induced ire since 2016, but nothing like this summer. Until the debate my wrath was focused on “the other guy,” with
I’ll get to the wood thrush in a moment, but first: on a January day in 2007, during morning rush hour, the fabulous violinist Joshua Bell, dressed in jeans and