January 6 is my Birthday!
Hey, come visit me in my new, renovated gallery at 20 Crossroad, two houses south of Ben&Jerry’s Wonk House on Route 100. On the table are cava, apple cider, soda water, cookies, cheese, other goodies. Art on the wall, easy chairs, so converse, reminisce, read a book from my library, go through the bins or…
Read MoreFINALLY, THIS wOODCHUCK IS DIGGING HIS WAY OUT OF A DEEP, DARK HOLE
“My people, I call them, seem to have been priced out of our state, as taxes and the cost of energy escalates and real estate prices soar.” ******** I wrote a commentary for Vermont Digger— I am Vermont Broke (August 21, 2016) and I received so many comments I wrote the book titled Vanishing Vermonters,…
Read MoreA VICIOUS, KILLING FARM FIRE
A year and a half I spent, in a fury of concentration, creating Vanishing Vermonters. Some say it is my best book, more journalistic then documentary. I don’t care, I’m relieved that it is a postpartum factoid. It pales about what I have to say: **************** What matters, in this harsh year, what stabbed my…
Read MoreFinally! Vanishing Vermonters…Loss of a Rural Culture is Out, in my hands and being Shipped!
Glory be!. After two months the printer and binder finished their job and Vanishing Vermonters is in my hands. Wow! I received the first copies on Friday Oct. 6 and immediately delivered 200 to bookstores that ordered early and now I am in the process of mailing out 93 books to Kickstarter donors who requested…
Read MoreVanishing Vermonters…Loss of a Rural Culture by Peter Miller
Hard, hard at work. I have written 9 profiles, 12 to go and then the Foreword and Afterword, my, but, take a look at this documentary created by Rob Hunter of Frog Hollow. It’s all about what I do, that is to write and photograph, particularly my latest book, Vanishing Vermonter. Our culture is changing…
Read MoreHappy Birthday to Me
So many happy birthdays. Yes, today, at 1.45 AM, 1934 I took my first breath. Oh yes, I am a flatlander who came to this state in 1947 with my mother, brother and sister. I knew the first day I was here that I had found my home. I felt it in my soul, I…
Read MoreRemembering Fred Tuttle
It gives me succor to remember Fred Tuttle and the era in which he was the farmer-elect in the movie by John O’brien: The Man with the Plan. Fred died 13 years ago, give or take a few months. He made us laugh and we loved him for what he was, a simple farmer who…
Read MoreFrom the Gonzo Chef
FROM THE GONZO CHEF: Apple Pie à La Bridge on the River Kwai. It’s that time of year and after the second frost I pick the Macs and Braeburns, skin them with my old red Rube Goldberg peeler. Out comes my dinged Chinese cleaver and I slice the flesh neat. The Joy of Cooking is…
Read MoreHatred. Violence. Fear
Midnight, 8 November. Stars so bright overhead, the big dipper low on the horizon. A frost layed down coating of ice on the deck railing. A black night save for the hope lit in the stars. It is election day and there is a clenching in my body as if I chugalugged a bottle…
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