Stephanie Greene


Stephanie Greene is a free-lance writer now living with her husband and sons on the family farm in Windham County.

My mother would put on lavish Thanksgiving feasts. Such was her idea of quality control that no one else was allowed to contribute so much as a lettuce leaf to the festivities.

Greene: Selfies

Nov 11, 2014

I took my first “selfie” recently, and then deleted it. I may look my best standing in the bathroom brushing my teeth –but it’s not an image I’m ready to share on the Internet.

To some, “selfies” are evidence of our runaway narcissism. Certainly, if an extra-terrestrial ever traveled our Cloud, she’d be baffled by the millions of hugging humans posing with motorcycles, children or oversized pumpkins.

We consult the Old Farmer’s Almanac. We examine the stripes on wooly caterpillars. We count thirty days after seeing the first migrating geese to pinpoint the first snowfall. This year, I’m adding the migration of mice indoors to the Signs of a Tough Winter to Come.

We’ve been hosting an Australian heavy metal band, King Parrot, off and on, for a few weeks. And it’s been quite an adventure.

In Aussie slang, Parrot is an obnoxious and loud person. King Parrot, therefore, is the most obnoxious. But offstage, our guests have been anything but. They’re thoughtful, kind, funny, wildly grateful for any meal I happen to pull together, hard working, intelligent and very charming guests. So we’ve been quizzing them about Australia.

Neither the town of Stratton nor the mountain were named for the Newfane Strattons, as fond rural legend would have it. But such is our affection for Catherine Stratton, that so many of us wanted it to be so. She was the gold standard of summer people. She loved, celebrated and contributed to Vermont in ways both large and small.

Lately, I’ve been visiting nursing homes. The residents in these facilities require round the clock skilled nursing care, involving complex medications and close medical monitoring.

A relatively new nursing home trend called the “culture change movement” seeks to address quality of life issues - and I’ve seen some progress. Activities directors try to schedule events that will benefit a broad range of people. But in my very unscientific survey of residents and elders, it appears to me that mental stimulation still takes a back seat to physical rehab and occupational therapy.

“Friends don’t let friends craft with insipid yarns.” That’s the motto of Lisa Bass’s web-based business, White Birch Fiber Arts.

About a year ago, Bass posted pictures of a few skeins of her hand dyed self-striping sock yarn on the fiber site, Ravelry. Then, at the urging of an online acquaintance, she began selling them on Etsy, the crafters site; and they sold out quickly. Since early this year, Bass has sold more than 2000 skeins online, doubling her business every month. She now produces about 200 skeins in a two week cycle, assisted by her son.

When we first moved back to Vermont from Massachusetts eleven years ago, we rejoiced in the small schools our sons would be attending. We envisioned individual attention in idyllic, purposeful classrooms. Instead, we encountered unchecked bullying, in classes so small and ingrown that just one new student could threaten their stability.

For more than 15 years, Vermont high schools have offered Virtual High School to students who want to take classes their schools can’t provide. These courses are taught by teachers from all over the country, using a variety of curricula. Costs are covered by the high school in a combination of teacher hours and fees in exchange for student slots.

The VHS catalogue lists 250 courses, ranging from animal behavior and zoology to entrepreneurship.

Ben Franklin was a great fan of the American turkey, admiring their courage and wiliness in particular. He even suggested that they be substituted for the bald eagle (which he called “a bird of bad moral character”) on our national seal.

I used to find Franklin’s respect a little hard to fathom. On back roads, I often come upon a flock of turkeys trotting in headlong panic, back and forth in front of the car, acting like not very bright poultry. I often wondered how they ever managed to thrive, so I decided to investigate.