It was the practice among those of us who moved to Vermont in the sixties to adopt or be adopted by a family of natives to advise and instruct. The natives welcomed newcomers to the state with a blend of grace and skepticism. And there was no cable television back then. What entertainment there was was in black and white and went off at midnight. Compared to that, watching newly-arrived New Yorkers and Californians dealing with their first Vermont winter, hopping around in 10 below zero weather, well... it was pretty amusing. Once the usual jokes about kittens born in the oven not being biscuits were exhausted, friendly relations usually prevailed. Most native Vermonters were as interested in the newcomers as the newcomers were in them.

In my case I had three farm families, who I will name the Bartons, the Fields, and the Curreys. The Teed family, celebrated in my arguably comical strip, is an amalgam of all three. The strip has been going on longer than most strips (30 years), but in fewer papers (2).

Mrs. Teed, whose first name is Ida, which was my Irish granny’s name, is lord of the kitchen, and is based sort of on Mrs. Field, who lived closest to us. The Fields were produced nearly all their own food, except for coffee. Mrs. Field was a marvelous cook, and made her coffee with egg shells in it, a practice which had adherents in those days for a variety of reasons. Some said it made the coffee less bitter, some said it made the grounds settle. I never knew which it was, but the coffee was fine. Fresh cream, as much as you wanted, still warm from their own employees, also helped.

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