The view from my window

My window is the window of a moving train. I have the illusion of being at rest as the world speeds past. Nevertheless, I am the one in motion.

Memories are the stories we tell about sensory perceptions.  The terrors of infancy subside as we learn names for our sensations and attach familiar narratives to sensory perceptions, so I write to comfort myself, assigning names to sensations and building memories by telling stories about those sensations.

I have loved to read and write since I first learned how. Teaching English and Spanish gave me many reasons to do a lot of both. Now retired from teaching, I channel my obsession for editing students’ papers to my own work. An interest in journalism that was on the back burner while I worked and raised a family. I like knowing that someone somewhere reads what I write, and I am grateful for encouraging comments and suggestions.

My background includes raising two boys and one girl. They are now two men and a woman with lives of their own. They have blessed me with seven grandchildren. I grew up in Wichita Falls, Texas. My places of residence as a grown-up inlude twenty years in Guadalajara, Mexico; three years in Lamesa, Texas; three years in Lubbock, Texas; nine years in Boston, Massachusetts; ten years in Sherman, Texas; five years and counting in Torreón, Mexico. I have traveled in the United States, Mexico, Europe, Asia, Central and South America. In addition to roles as wife, mother, and grandmother, I have been a public school teacher, university professor, university administrator, and interpreter.


April 26, 2017

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