The Green Mountain Folklore Society is a non-profit organization that was founded in April 1948 by UVM Professor Leon Dean. The purpose of this society is to collect, preserve and make available the folklore of the State of Vermont for all of us, and future generations. This Society started out with just a few dedicated people and now has more than 130 members in Vermont and several other states. Meetings are held twice yearly in May and October.
Membership includes bi-annual issues of The Potash Kettle Newsletter and annual issues of The Green Mountain Whittlin's. Dues are $10.00 per year. Please make checks payable to: GMFS and mail to: PO Box 394, Williston VT 05495.
Gabfest
A focal point of each meeting is the Gabfest, where folks share reminiscences of folklore about Vermont's earlier days. Sometimes a particular topic is selected, and members bring stories and artifacts on that topic. These stories and folklore are recorded on tape along with the name of each person speaking.
The Potash Kettle
The Potash Kettle is the semi-annual newsletter that gives members current Society information and notices of meetings. To ensure you are receiving yours please make sure we have your current address when updating your membership or when you attend our next meeting.
Come Sing Along with us at our next meeting?
By Margaret MacArthur
In honor of The Green Mountain Folklore Society
Chorus:
Look at this old potash kettle
Hear what it could tell
Of bygone days, of old folkways
Tales that linger and cast a spell
Farms in every valley
Cows on every farm
Maple sugar to keep us sweet
Firewood to keep us warm
To harden until harvest time
Kids who walked to one room schools
Could always recite a rhyme
Chorus:
Turkeys on foot to Boston
Sheep on many a hill
To card and to spin that wool
Water wheels turned many a mill
Dances in kitchens
Barn and house raising
Horses towed newfangled cars
Stuck in the mud in the spring
Chorus:
Recipes we called receipts
We have in handwriting old
Gadgets and tools of wood and iron
Their use can no more be told
We still have this old kettle
Filled now with flowers
Instead of potash it now holds
These precious memories of ours
Chorus:



