Friday, 7 March 2008


In school I always liked my English classes best. Three teachers particularly stick in my mind. Mrs. Gleichman made us prepare a speech and deliver it in front of the class in the 9th Grade. When she moved away to another city, I remember we bought her a Tom Jones album. Mr. Hunter had us write weekly essays which I enjoyed and found easy. I got rather cocky about it though: I wrote a last minute essay for a popular girl in my class and she got the better grade. Mrs. Lee impressed me by knowing how my German surname was pronounced. She taught the summer school class I took in order to graduate high school a year early. She let those of us at the top of the class go early whilst the others did extra work to catch up. I can tell you that a summer day is best enjoyed in such circumstances.

I was offered a scholarship at university by my English professor. I didn’t take it as I thought at the time English majors only taught English, and that didn’t appeal. Expressing my ideas on paper has always, however, necessary for my inner peace. The physical act of writing words is pleasing, particularly with coloured paper and (fine line) pens. More recently seeing words appear on the computer screen (with interesting fonts and coloured backgrounds) is nearly as satisfying. Very girly, I know.

I often share descriptions of my vacations around the world and I try to write at least an annual Christmas letter to family and friends. I never write a short email if I can help it. Many of my friends compliment my writing; others correct my grammar and spelling. I’m happy with either; I write principally for myself.

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